


The Girl From the Notebook

by ewinfic



Series: The Jessie Chronicles [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Diary/Journal, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Group Therapy, Medical Professionals, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), POV First Person, POV Original Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Psychoanalysis, Steve and Bucky are platonically in love, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:19:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 62
Words: 85,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7278703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewinfic/pseuds/ewinfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to The Dancing Partner... Jessie has been rescued from Hydra, but has lost her memory of the previous year and must rebuild herself and her life.  There are just a few complications.  She's pregnant with Bucky's baby.  Hydra isn't gone yet, and Hydra still wants her dead for some reason.  Bucky seems to be in danger, too.  And perhaps worst of all:  she's living with her brother Joe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes upon the plot structure:
> 
> Because of the changes I made to the plot of Winter Soldier in The Dancing Partner, SHIELD is not actually dissolved at the beginning of this fic. It's injured, but still very much alive, and Nick Fury is still its director. The helicarriers never made it into the air, so Washington D.C. never saw that disaster. This all takes place in 2014, before the events of Ultron. We're still in the "wiping out Hydra" phase of Marvel history.
> 
> This fic incorporates a great deal of plot elements from Civil War, so it contains spoilers, but it also changes the events of that film considerably.
> 
> I would like to apologize in advance for anything I've gotten incorrect or any facts that I have been insensitive to regarding pregnancy or memory damage. Please leave comments if you see anything particularly egregious. Also please note that this is a diary, and each chapter is a day. Some of them will be VERY short, others quite long, depending upon how much happened on that day.

Monday, March 31st, 2014

Dear Diary,

Just kidding. I am not twelve.

Dr. Manscolm recommended that I keep a daily journal to keep track of the progress of my recovery. He thinks it might help me organize my memories. They could certainly stand to be more organized. Right now my memory, which has always been so orderly and easily accessible, feels like a combination trash heap and minefield. I don't know where anything is, and searching for things tends to hurt me.

Dr. Manscolm and several other ex-SHIELD scientists are extremely excited about something; apparently Hydra--I'm still a little bit hazy on who Hydra actually is--had a device that could manipulate memories. Dr. Manscolm thinks they may be able to figure out what was done to me when I was captured. Here's hoping.

I don't remember anything very clearly, but the memories of the past year in particular are just plain _gone_. It's a weird feeling, losing an entire year of your life. It's an even weirder feeling to wake up in a hospital surrounded by people you don't know and finding out that during that year you not only fell in love (something I'm not in the habit of doing), but got pregnant and helped SHIELD release all its secrets. I no longer have a job, really. Which is probably a good thing, because I don't think my brain works quite like it used to. I don't know that I could be a good EID now. That's sort of the only thing I ever had.

For instance, once upon a time I would have read the notebook and had it memorized the first time through. I can't do that now. I have read it, though, and I'm slowly re-reading passages here and there, so I know some of what happened, but it's still the story of somebody else, not me. I'm not familiar with the hyper-emotional, smitten girl in these pages.

I'm living with Joe right now, he got an apartment and a job in town with one of the big accounting firms. Nick Fury has said that there are jobs I could do for SHIELD, but I really don't feel too useful right now, and anyway everybody keeps telling me to take it slow.

Steve Rogers came to see us today and say hello. He's really a lot sweeter than I would have expected, and I enjoy his visits. He's really patient with me, even though I gather that he misses the old me. Knowing that he and I were that close is just bizarre to think about.

Bucky Barnes has been over a couple of times, too, and that's just awkward as hell. My history with him in the notebook reads like something out of a Playboy letter to the editor. Knowing that I did and felt those things with him makes me tongue-tied and stupid when he's around. He's devilishly handsome, and I can easily _imagine_ doing those kinds of things with him, but the guy in the notebook is not the same guy I see when he comes over. He's not funny or confident, not anymore. He's pale and quiet and seems incredibly tormented. He blames himself for what I did to myself, I know that much. It's painfully obvious how much he wishes I had my memories. And he doesn't know how to feel about the baby.

Fuck, I sure as hell don't know how to feel about the baby. Except frustrated, because according to the baby, I need to be eating every waking hour of the day that I'm not sleeping. I have attempted to reason with the baby, and the baby isn't having any of it. Sometimes the food even stays down for longer than two hours. I'm already gaining weight.

Joe has been a treasure. He's sweet and patient and respectful of my space, with just the right amount of sarcasm. He's been helping me remember stuff from our childhood, which is blurry but at least it's there. He's also regulating my diet and helping me with stuff like neo-natal vitamins. Joe, unlike everybody else, is _thrilled_ about the baby.

I'm not a patient person, so a lot about my current situation is driving me nuts. Joe actually got me a giant teddy bear so that I would have something soft that I could punch in the face whenever I get frustrated. That bear has already taken a few beatings.

My thoughts keep returning to Bucky, even when I don't want them to. He makes my heart pound when he's around. I don't know what it is. It's not exactly a pleasant feeling. Is that the in-love thing?

There are things that I went through with him in the notebook that I'm glad I have no memory of. But most of it, I sort of wish I had back. I do feel like a different person from who I used to be, but I can't quite tell how. I feel weathered, I guess. Like I've been through some serious storms.

Wow, I had a lot more feelings to write down than I thought I did. I should keep this up.

Most of my bruises and the broken rib healed up while I was in the hospital. I still have the slight remaining shadow of a very attractive shiner over my left eye. My body feels sore and abused and tired all the time.

That's enough for today.


	2. Chapter 2

Tuesday, April 1st, 2014

April Fools' Day! I hope like hell that Bucky doesn't come to visit me today. I'll be tempted to pretend like I don't know him, and that would be just cruel as fuck.

Maybe a tiny bit funny, but cruel as fuck.

I can feel myself trying to be a nicer person in general than I've always been. I'm not sure why, but I'm trying to become more like the girl in the notebook, who cares so much about everybody and everything. But why? Caring doesn't seem to make her very happy. Well, maybe sometimes it does, and she has close friends. I've never really had close friends.

I try to be like her, but I feel like I'm faking it.

I think I'm trying to be like her because I feel like I could use some close friends right now.

To be completely honest, and if I can't be honest in a private journal, where can I be honest? To be completely honest, I'm scared to death. I'm scared that I don't have what it takes to be a parent. I'm scared that my mind will always be a hazy, painful place. I'm scared that Joe will get tired of me and shoo me out of the house, especially once the baby arrives, which is a stupid fear because he's given me nothing but reassurances, but still. I'm scared that Steve and Bucky will stop visiting me. It may be a little uncomfortable to be around them, but they're the only people I see other than my brother these days.

I should probably find something to do other than just lurking around the house like the Ghost of Jessie Past. I need a hobby.

I could take up knitting, I guess? Isn't that what pregnant people do in cartoons?


	3. Chapter 3

Wednesday, April 2nd, 2014

Fuck. This. Shit.

Fuck my swollen breasts that are hurting like a motherfucker. Fuck the fact that I'm in the bathroom fifteen times a day. Fuck being alone most of the time. Fuck being a useless waste of space. Fuck all this therapy and bullshit. And most especially, fuck today.


	4. Chapter 4

Thursday, April 3rd, 2014

So yesterday was kind of bad. I went to my very first support group therapy thing; it's this group of people who have all suffered from amnesia or other memory disorders. Every single one of then, without exception, was a sad, pathetic human being with a horrible life. And I thought, _So am I. I'm one of these sad people._ I went home and desperately wanted to get drunk, or... I dunno. Wasted somehow. However people do that. I was always kind of an ascetic so I'm unfamiliar with these things.

And Joe has a wine collection; I was sorely tempted, but the last thing on earth I need right now is fetal alcohol syndrome. Plus, I never really drank before so I don't know how to use a corkscrew. It looked intimidating.

So I beat the shit out of the giant teddy bear, who I have decided to name Bruno. And then I wrote a brief journal entry, and then I ate an entire bag of potato chips and a bowl of strawberries, and then I went to bed and tried my best to suffocate myself with a pillow. It's impossible, by the way.

I am now deeply suspicious of every movie I have ever seen where someone killed another person with a pillow.

I didn't want to get up this morning, but I have this fear that if I let myself stay in bed even one day, I may never get out of bed again. That idea is a mix of horrifying and dangerously tempting.

Bucky came by today, and I think it was the best visit we've had, just because I was giving absolutely no fucks. He was doing his typical anxious are-you-sure-you're-okay thing with me, and I suddenly exploded and started pacing and ranting in front of him. Ranting about how much I hate being brain damaged, and how much it sucks that people keep treating me with kid gloves, and how much it sucks that I probably need to be treated that way, and about the support group, and about the baby and how terrified I am, and about the fact that I can't work which is driving me batshit insane.

He watched me pace the living room and yell for several minutes, his eyes wide with shock. Finally I started winding down, and then I was sitting on the arm of the couch and muttering fierce profanity. I looked at him, and he was smiling at me. The notebook was right, he looks completely different when he smiles.

I said, "What's so funny?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. You're just so beautiful when you're angry." He paused. "I'm sorry, that's probably not what you want to hear, it's just... we used to fight a lot, and I think I missed seeing you this way."

"We used to fight a lot, and then we'd kiss or have sex according to my notebook," I said.

He was surprised into a laugh, and then he looked down at his hands, one flesh, one silvery. "Sometimes we did, yes."

Suddenly there was this weird tension in the room that had nothing to do with awkwardness or anger. I think he and I were both wondering _what-if_ for just a few moments. I spent a second admiring his shoulders, and imaging what it might be like to have them poised over me as he... I stopped myself from completing that thought, but that little bit was enough to give me a hot, swollen feeling between my legs.

He cleared his throat and looked at me with eyes that, for a nice change, weren't completely grief-stricken. And he said, "Is there anything on earth I can do to make this easier for you?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "You can stop blaming yourself."

That stopped him. He sat up straight and shook his head. "I'm not sure I can do that."

"Well, you asked, that's my answer."

"Then I guess I'll have to try my best."

He left soon after. I had an urge to hug him, or just touch him somehow, but it didn't feel right; I think I could have handled it, but I'm not sure he could have.


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday, April 5th, 2014

I am SO glad Bucky didn't come by today. I would probably have wrestled him to the couch and ravished him within an inch of his life, and then he would probably have suffered a nervous breakdown. If it's one thing I do know about human relationships, it's that you never want to combine guilt and sex.

Notebook Jessie warned me, but I didn't really get it until my head stopped hurting (by the way: my head stopped hurting for a little while earlier today, but the headache has since returned). My libido is off the charts right now. I'm practically oozing hormones.

Pregnancy is not for sissies.


	6. Chapter 6

Sunday, April 6th, 2014

Visitors today: Steve and Bucky together for a change. I thought it might be awkward when they both walked in, but it was actually easier to deal with the two of them together than apart. I played a little game with myself of trying to detect this intense love between them that I wrote about so passionately in the notebook.

I couldn't see it at first. Then I asked Steve something like, "Going out to save the world today?" That started a gentle argument between the two of them. It seemed that Steve was back on active duty, and Bucky was being advised to stay home. Bucky's frustration at this was palpable. Not surprising; I described him in the notebook as a man of action. Steve seemed equally intent that Bucky needed to be protected from something out in the world, though I couldn't say what exactly. But when he looked at Bucky, I saw it nakedly in his eyes: devotion. And Bucky, though he snarled and complained, gave Steve a similar look.

When they both focused that look on me, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. Whoever it was they were looking at, it wasn't me.

They were on their way to go see Peggy Carter. I still can't believe I had the guts to go to her the way that I did in the notebook. I still can't believe that it worked. There are a lot of things I have a hard time believing.

My head hurts today, my memory sucks, and my vision keeps doubling. Joe was home with me for the rest of the day and we managed to bicker at each other for most of it. I think I may be in a chemical depression. Nothing feels good or tastes good today. Everything hurts.

I spent the evening curled up in bed with my hands covering the baby protectively. And crying.


	7. Chapter 7

Monday, April 7th, 2014

Doctor appointments all day long today.

First was the obgyn (Dr. Javier), who says I'm doing just fine--actually what he says is "We're doing just fine!" as though he and I are carrying the baby together. It's too soon for an ultrasound so at the moment the baby is still just kind of a mysterious force in my body.

Then there was the neurologist, Dr. Nami, who seems completely out of her depth with me. Apparently my memory symptoms aren't quite like the amnesia that typically goes along with brain trauma or dementia. My memory of the past year is pretty reliably gone, but my memories of the rest of my life seem to come and go depending on the day or hour. Then I can have a good day where I feel I remember almost everything from my life before the past year, and then a bad day where it's all gone again. It's as though the brain damage floats around. She's put me through a full battery of tests already and the non-cognitive parts of my brain seem to be fine. My ability to reason and my personality, likewise. It's only my memory that's affected. Which is consistent with amnesia associated with psychological trauma, but then the gaps wouldn't be floating the way they are. Fortunately I never forget basic tasks of living, such as tying a shoe.

I appear to have forgotten how to cook at some point.

That was a joke. I thought that my tuna fight with Bucky in the notebook was hysterical, incidentally.

Dr. Nami wanted to give me something for the headaches, but she wanted it approved first by Dr. Javier, so I'm left with the pain until the two of them get a chance to chat.

And then there was Dr. Manscolm, who we've already met in these pages. He sort of doubles as a psychotherapist and a specialized neurologist. His specialty? Me. He sees me twice a week, I don't know if he even has any other patients. And what we do is more like psychotherapy than anything. We talk a lot. He doesn't press me to remember things, probably because he can tell how hard I'm already pressing myself all the time. Go-go Jessie, the 150% achiever again.

But he asks me odd questions that tend to yield odd responses. Today, for instance, he asked, "Where did Bucky Barnes get his nickname from?"

I immediately said, "Steve Rogers gave it to him when they were eight." And suddenly my eyes were welling up. Dr. Manscolm handed me a box of tissues without a word and let me calm myself down. I still don't quite know what happened, I just suddenly felt this overwhelming sense of... not quite sadness, but something deep.

And just now I realize that I have no idea whether that was something I remembered because I remember Steve telling me, or because I read it in the notebook.


	8. Chapter 8

Tuesday, April 8th, 2014

Bad morning sickness; I haven't been able to keep anything down all day.

Steve came by again today and we had a long talk. I got some questions answered that had been bugging me. I'll just enumerate them and give his responses (paraphrased, my memory just isn't exact like it was):

1\. How did Hydra know where I was?  
"They didn't. The reason it took them three days to get to the mansion was that they were checking every hideout they could find, top to bottom. But we know they were looking for you, because they didn't appear anywhere else after they abducted you."

2\. Why am I so important?  
"That we don't know. The only thing we do know is that they wanted you alive, or they would have killed you on sight."

3\. How long did they have me, and where did they take me?  
"You were taken to a laboratory in the Catskills that we had no record of in SHIELD or Hydra files. It was deep underground, we had your location but it took us a while to break in, so I'd say you were there roughly nine hours or so. We found some other interesting things there, but I'm not sure how much Fury would want me to share with you."

4\. What did they do to me?  
"Jessie, I'm not sure. They questioned you, you've told us that much. There's a possibility that they used a mind-altering device like the one in BB17 on you, because they had a more primitive model at this other lab."

5\. Did they get any information out of me?  
"If they had, you probably wouldn't have come back so bruised." His jaw clenched as he said it; he didn't seem very happy about that.

6\. Did you take any of them alive?  
"No. Fury and Natasha both wanted to, but Bucky and I were the ones on the primary rescue op, and once we found you, Bucky went... a little overboard."

"Overboard how?"

"He killed forty-five Hydra agents. I took care of the remaining ten. It's not easy to collect Hydra agents alive."

After he told me that, I thanked him and said goodbye for today. I needed to spend some time in thought.

I think that notebook-Jessie would have been horrified that Bucky had gone back to his old killing-machine M.O. I'm having a slightly different reaction to it.

For one thing, this isn't like before. This time he was killing because he was angry, not because he was brainwashed. For another thing, I would say he deserves to have some revenge, considering what they did to him. And finally...

I feel strange admitting to it, but there's something deeply, darkly, undeniably fascinating about a man who would kill forty-five people just because they hurt me. There's something fascinating about a man who is _capable_ of that, not just psychologically, but physically.

Okay, so, it's a turn-on.

Fuck, I'm a horrible person.


	9. Chapter 9

Wednesday, April 9th, 2014

Support group again today. Not really interested in talking about it. Maybe it will get better as time passes. Bruno took a beating when I got back home, and that helped.

Then Joe wanted to go bassinet shopping, so we went. They didn't have anything I liked. Midway through the trip he suddenly threw up his hands and said, "Jessie, you are not going to be able to find one in black leather and carbonized steel, okay?"

I started laughing. "Am I that bad?"

"I think the real problem is that I was expecting that this would be fun." He ran a hand through his hair, which naturally sprang right back into its original perfect place. Several women nearby went into near-swoon mode. Joe has that effect on people. He looks an awful lot like me, tall, pale, big brown eyes, sharp eyebrows etc., except instead of my brown, his hair is black like Dad's was. His eyes are a little darker, too. It makes him look very dramatically handsome, and it turns women (and the occasional man) into idiots.

"I don't know why any of this should be expected to be fun," I said morosely.

"Jessie, stop. Look at me. You're having a _baby_. I know it's not exactly what you planned, and I know you've got a shit-ton of, well, shit to deal with right now, but this stage? Right now? This is probably the most fun part. Shopping, decorating, planning! Once the baby comes, it's going to be all pooping, eating, and crying. And the baby will probably be crying too."

"Joe, if you had gained ten pounds in a month, you would not be lecturing me on how much fun I was supposed to be having right now."

"All I'm saying is, you can choose to be miserable, or you can choose to enjoy this a little bit. I mean, look. Look at this little onesie!" He held up a tiny garment with a yellow elephant on the front. "Is that not criminally adorable?"

I looked at the onesie and tried to imagine a baby inside it, cooing and laughing. I reached for it and Joe gave it to me. The fabric was amazingly soft, and the elephant had a plastic googly-eye that rolled around at me.

I looked up at Joe and said, "Bucky doesn't want the baby." And to my mortification, I started to cry right there in the fucking store.

Joe patiently took me in his arms and said, "Breathe, honey. Just breathe."

I slowly got myself back under control, and he guided me out to the car. We made it home, where I burst into more tears as he made us some herbal tea. When he gave it to me, I said, "Am I allowed to have herbal tea, or is that on the not list?" And I started crying even harder.

Joe sat down and put his arm around me. "I don't think a tiny bit of chamomile is going to hurt anybody. Now let's sit down and have our little cry, and then you can tell me how on earth you got the crazy idea that Bucky doesn't want this baby."

I cried for a few minutes, and then subsided to hiccups. "He's just so unhappy when he's around me. All he feels is guilt."

"Well I hate to point this out, but you're no bundle of joy yourself these days. He may be reflecting a little bit of what you're putting out."

"You think?"

"I do. If I impregnated a woman and she acted like it was the end of the world, I'd probably feel a little conflicted myself."

I sniffled. "If you impregnated a woman, it _would_ be the end of the world."

" _There's_ my smartass little brat." He squeezed my shoulder. "I think we should call Bucky and have him come by tomorrow."

"Oh god, I can't break down like this in front of him," I said.

"Why not?"

The question surprised me. "Are you saying it would be a good idea?"

"I'm saying that the sooner the two of you start being honest with each other about your emotions, the better it will be for both of you AND the baby. Hell, he should have been with us today. It's not like he has a job."

"You know, I haven't even asked him what he's been doing with himself."

"Then you should do that."

I nodded and sniffled for a few more minutes, and then we ate, because the baby said so.

And I just realized something: I wrote that conversation down verbatim.


	10. Chapter 10

Thursday, April 10th, 2014

Let's see if I can remember the whole thing.

Bucky arrived today, looking his usual awkward, troubled self, and I sat with him quite composedly (I was munching on a sandwich, that helped me look composed) and said, "I haven't asked because I've been incredibly self-absorbed: what exactly have you been doing with yourself lately?"

He gave me a half-smile. "Well, I'm living with Steve temporarily, so that's... not great. His apartment is very much a one-person place."

I nodded. "Stepping on each others' toes?"

"That, and somewhere in the last seventy years he became a neat freak."

"I would have guessed that, I think," I said musingly. "So I take it you're not."

"Well, I'm no slob, I was an upright military man myself at one point. But I don't dust the curtains."

"He dusts the curtains?"

"And the houseplants. Who dusts houseplants?"

I grinned. "I guess they get dusty same as everything else, right?"

"I'm surprise he hasn't tried to dust me yet."

"Do you sit around that much?"

Bucky sighed and relaxed back onto the couch cushions. It was the first time I've seen him do that; usually he's so tense around me. He said, "Not much else to do aside from submit myself for guinea pig treatment at the lab, which I'm not going to do."

I frowned. "They want to experiment on you?"

He glanced at me. "Of course they do. Did you think it was just you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Did you know they're trying to reverse-engineer the mind wiper?" Bucky shuddered and closed his eyes.

I put my hand on his shoulder... his _right_ shoulder. I felt a little nervous about touching him, and the nervousness annoyed me; I wanted to get past it. "They're not going to do to you what Hydra did to you."

He looked at me with a lifted eyebrow. "How can you possibly know that? They're scientists. If the science is fascinating enough, you and I will turn into objects, mark my words."

I shook my head. "They're not going to do to you what Hydra did to you, because if they do, Steve will beat the shit out of them."

He blinked. "There is that."

"Not to mention what you would do to them. You're not trapped anymore, Bucky." It felt important to get the point through to him somehow. It mattered. I want to make a note of that, because it mattered to me the same way I think it would have mattered to notebook-Jessie.

His eyes narrowed. "No, I'm not trapped. And I won't be."

I let him think about that for a moment, and I put my hand back into my lap. "Steve told me something."

"What did Steve say?"

"He said that you killed forty-five Hydra agents in the lab where they took me." I felt shy saying it.

Bucky held his metal hand in front of his face and slowly flexed the fingers of it. He looked at me, and I saw fear, and guilt, and pain. "If they had hurt you. If they had hurt you, or... or..."

"Or the baby?" I said gently.

He sat up abruptly. "Jess, why didn't you _tell_ me?" he pleaded. "I would never have left you alone."

"I don't know," I said bluntly. "I must have thought I had a good reason." I paused. "Or else I was being a chicken shit because I had no idea how you would react. Now that I think about it, that's more likely."

He shook his head in bewilderment. "You were scared of me?"

I shrugged. "You know, for all we had a lot of sex in the notebook, I don't actually see any parts where we got to know each other that well. It takes a while being around someone before you can anticipate their reactions to things."

He pondered that for a moment. "Maybe we should get to know each other better. Preferably before... um."

"Joe agrees with you. He said you and I should try being more honest with our emotional responses."

"Your brother is a smart man."

"I think he also thinks you should be more involved with the baby preparations."

"What... kind of preparations?" He looked dubiously nervous, as though expecting to hear that I needed him to do visual vaginal soundings or something.

"Buying furniture, doctor appointments, stuff like that." So far, those were the only two things I knew of; Joe had been buying me what-to-expect books and reading them himself.

Bucky seemed relieved. "I can do those things. If you want me to?"

I thought about it for a moment, and the longer I thought, the more complicated the answer got. I decided to just nod.

He leaned forward. "In the meantime, who starts, you or me?"

"Starts what?"

"Getting to know each other. Is there anything you want to know?"

Everything, I thought. But... "I know a bit about you from the notebook, and it sounds like I did a lot of research on your past in there. I'll have to re-learn all of that, but in the meantime, what do you know about me?"

He looked mildly embarrassed. "Very little. Aside from. Um. Let's just say I don't know much about your past."

"What would you like to know?"

He asked me about where I grew up (south Texas and the less said about that the better, but I did tell him a few memories, what few I have). We talked about my relationship with Joe and with my parents. I told him that they died when we were both teenagers, so Joe is somewhat used to looking after me. I felt tears rising in my eyes talking about Mom and Dad, which is strange, because it's been over eight years... wait... nine years (I keep skipping the last year) since I last cried about them.

He took my hand as I composed myself. "I miss my folks too."

"Do you know what happened to them?" I asked quietly.

"They died in the seventies. Natural causes, both of them." He pressed his lips together for a moment, and then said, "They spent most of their lives thinking I was dead."

I looked at his hand in mine, and looked at his other hand. "Bucky..."

"What is it?"

I hesitantly reached toward his other hand with my other hand. He smiled and took both my hands in his. Something about the touch of his metal skin was fascinating to me; I moved my fingers in his loose grip. He tolerantly let me examine his hand, pull it closer to me and run my fingertips over the plates and joins. The tiny sounds it made as he flexed his fingers were somehow soothing.

I looked into his eyes and noticed that they were dilated. And then I realized I was basically molesting his hand. I let go of it, blushing. He gave me a somewhat pained smile.

We agreed to meet again in a couple of days.

I think I actually remembered all of that. The relief I feel at being able to reproduce an entire conversation like this... it's like having back an arm or leg that was paralyzed before.


	11. Chapter 11

Friday, April 11th, 2014

Very sick in the morning, but I recovered somewhat as the day progressed.

Dr. Manscolm wanted to know about my relationship with Bucky today, and I had a really hard time, based on the way he phrased his questions, figuring out whether he meant now or past tense. I finally stopped him. "Are you trying to... trick me into remembering without remembering, or something?"

He smiled. "Something like that, yes. I have a theory about your memory loss; I don't think that those memories are technically lost at all. EID conditioning trained you to hide them from yourself. But there's no way to dismantle a memory completely."

I stared at him. "I've never been able to remember something I deliberately forgot before."

"Have you ever tried?"

"Actually no." I had always had a remarkable ability to regulate my own curiosity, which had been an advantage in my job.

"Well, my theory is that the harder you try, the more directly your brain will block your attempts. But if you try more obliquely, if you don't in fact realize that you're remembering, you may be able to edge around those safeguards."

I felt a sudden bloom of hope, and it was painful. I wasn't sure I wanted to be hoping for anything. "And... if I remember something obliquely one time, I'll be able to remember it easily afterward?"

"That's the theory in a nutshell."

"But now that I know that's what you're trying to do, it won't work anymore, will it?"

"That's possible, but to be frank, I know you're an intelligent woman, and I knew you'd catch on eventually anyway. And being as intelligent as you are, you may find ways to circumvent your conditioning that I can't conceive of, seeing as how I'm not the one inside your mind. I encourage you to try."

Flattering words, but I've been trying all day long to remember things by meandering or unconventional methods, and I don't think that I've succeeded even one time. I have managed to give myself a headache, which is very encouraging, because it meant that I didn't have one when I started. I wonder when the constant headache went away. I just checked my last few journal entries and I haven't mentioned it.


	12. Chapter 12

Saturday, April 12th, 2014

I woke up crying this morning and I don't know why. I feel like I must have remembered something, or forgotten something, important. It drifted away like a thin fog just a few seconds after waking. All I can remember is a single word, "key". But I have no idea what the key is, or where it goes.

I looked out the window at the city below. Something about it made me feel useless and restless, so I got up and made myself some cereal and tried to focus on something that I could do that might be productive.

I finally cracked open some of the literature Joe bought for me. It's time I started taking an active role in this pregnancy.

And now I know why I've been peeing every five minutes since I got out of the hospital. Also the fatigue. (I figured out the vomiting on my own.) Also the fact that none of my bras fit right now. Also the fact that I think I've eaten about five pounds of strawberries this week alone, and I can no longer handle the smell of fried eggs, which I used to love (being one of the few things I can actually cook).

I'm going to need some new clothing, and I wonder if I should include Bucky when I go. How much of this is he really going to be interested in? Trying to figure that out made me feel incredibly alone.

And then I realized that I still don't really know whether he wants this baby.

I went back to bed and cried for an hour, feeling half pitiful and half horrified at this new sack-of-emotions version of myself. I dragged Bruno over to the bed and hugged him until I fell asleep for a little while, instead of beating him.

Then I was overwhelmed with restlessness again, and needed to get out of the apartment. I went for a slow, thoughtful walk through the neighborhood. The weather is perfect right now, and I'm fortunate enough to not suffer any allergies in response to the pollen outside. The cherry trees are bursting into bloom everywhere.

While I was walking and admiring them, I had the sudden strong urge to show them to Bucky. He would enjoy the flowers too, I thought. I wonder how I know that. I wonder if it's true. I think a lot of the awkwardness between us has lifted, and I enjoyed his company the last time I saw him. When did that start?

It was enough to inspire me to call him and invite him over tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I am FORCING myself to post this one day at a time and it feels like a snail's pace because so many things are going to happen and I want to tell them all to you RIGHT NOW but the fic isn't finished and I want to stay ahead of the chapters so that I can keep posting them every day without fail... and basically I'm almost as much of a mess as Jessie is right now.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! It wouldn't be worth it without you. <3


	13. Chapter 13

Sunday, April 13th, 2014

Joe has a new man in his life, I can tell. He's gotten all secretive, and today he was gone for the entire day. I'm kind of pleased by this development. He's been focusing so much attention on me that there was a danger of him neglecting himself.

And it gave me the chance to hash the baby issue out with Bucky.

When Bucky came over, the first thing I did was take him outside and walk with him down the block to show him the cherry trees. He gazed serenely at them as we walked, and a few of the tiny pale pink flower petals drifted down on a random breeze to settle in his dark hair. I reached up to brush them off without thinking, and he touched my hand. My mouth went dry.

"Hold still, you've got flowers in your hair."

"So do you." He smiled. "You look beautiful."

I blushed hard, and he backed away a little bit, shyly. I said, "We should head back. There's something I want to talk to you about."

We went back to the apartment and I sat him down on the couch, seating myself beside him.

"Bucky, can I ask a favor?"

"Anything."

"Let's pretend, and go back in time, and say that this happened during a nice period where people weren't trying to kill each other and there weren't spies everywhere. Let's say it was just you and me, living a normal life together, and you found out I was pregnant. How would you react?" He started to say something and I hushed him. "No, _imagine_ it. Go back in time. You and me, normal life, picket fence type stuff. Think about it for a few seconds first." He patiently closed his eyes and thought. After a moment, I said, "Okay. We're going to have a baby. What's your reaction?"

His eyes opened and he gave me a look that I have never seen before in the eyes of a man, not even the men who have been close to me like my brother or Dad. It was a look of absolute, adoring love. It was like staring into the sun; my eyes began to burn and I felt a tear slide down my cheek. I felt suddenly shaky.

He reached out and took my hands in his, and he said, "I hope it has your eyes."

And of course I burst into sobs. "I thought... you... didn't want... it..." I gasped.

"Of _course_ I want it!" And then I was in his arms, and ohhhhhhh. My body remembered him even if I didn't. My body remembered him _perfectly_. He pulled me into his lap and held me there, stroking my hair, and I clung to him and cried and it felt so completely _right_ that I wanted to stay there forever. Maybe live there. Build a house on his lap and set up a mailbox. I buried my face in his shoulder and breathed him in as the sobs quieted, and something inside of myself clicked into place that had been broken for weeks.

I pulled back so I could look into his eyes. "Bucky, guess what?" I said softly.

"What? Tell me."

"We're going to have a baby."

He smiled that rare starry smile of his, and I shared it.

I'm pretty sure if I hadn't had snot running down my face, I probably would have started kissing him. As it was, I excused myself and went to clean my face up, and when I came back...

It was like that feeling you get after a thunderstorm ends, when the air is rinsed with water and clear and the wind has died down and the sky is blue again and the sun is peeking out. The last remainder of that awful, sick tension between us was _gone_. I sat beside him and hugged his arm, putting my head on his shoulder.

"I missed you," I whispered. "I don't know how that's possible with my memory so bad, but I did."

He touched my cheek with his metal hand, gently. "I missed you too. I... I nearly lost you."

"Well, you found me."

"I guess so."

"And killed forty-five people."

"Is that going to be an issue?"

"It's just impressive."

"I'm not proud of it," he said quietly.

I looked into his eyes. "Boy or girl?"

He looked away, not saying anything.

I smiled. "Come on, I know you have an opinion. Boy or girl?"

"I have no opinion," he said flatly.

"Bullshit."

"I never even thought about it."

"So much bullshit it's a wonder your eyes aren't brown."

"Do you know that you talk like a sailor?"

"Don't deflect."

"I wasn't, I was making an observation."

"Oh my god, you are so--" he interrupted me by kissing me. It was one of those small kisses that quickly turns into a much deeper one. My mouth remembered him, too.

He pulled away before I did, and I could see the heat in his eyes. "Let's not... go too fast."

"I agree," I said, not agreeing at all. Not even slightly.

I bet he wants a boy.


	14. Chapter 14

Monday, April 14th, 2014

Doctor day. Mild headache.

I told Dr. Javier that I've been eating a ton of fruit, and he wants to make sure I'm getting enough protein. I asked him if I could start running again, which I used to do almost every day. He said as long as I took it easy, it would be fine. Just to "listen to my body". I'm not sure what that means.

I didn't see Dr. Nami today; instead I had an MRI taken of my head. I had already checked with Dr. Javier to make sure this was safe for the baby. I'm starting to get accustomed to taking that into account. And since my headaches have improved, I don't think I need to start taking painkillers.

Dr. Manscolm gave me a battery of psychological tests most of which I couldn't interpret the meaning of, which I guess is good, because if I could figure them out, I could probably mess them up. No deep questions about Bucky, which was a relief to me because I feel a little bit like if I started talking about him today, I might start gushing like a schoolgirl with a crush; talking about his hair and his eyes and his smile and his shoulders. Fuck, his shoulders. Something about them just wrecks me.

My libido was set to eleven today, and so was my appetite; the morning sickness wasn't bad at all.


	15. Chapter 15

Tuesday, April 15th, 2014

I woke up and immediately threw up, but I was determined to go on my first run no matter what, so I did.

It went surprisingly well. I think it's already clearing my head a little. I was always a good runner, but I stopped once we accomplished the Great Bucky Getaway and ended up in the woods for several months. It's really hard to run in the woods. So we walked a lot, but that's not quite as cathartic as a good, long run.

There's so much advice out there, so many books for mothers-to-be, and they all say different stuff about exercising. Supposedly my body is already working so hard at producing a placenta that extra exercise isn't really necessary. But I have a feeling that being in shape can only be a good thing for the baby, not to mention my own sanity. And I'm sure Bruno will appreciate it, because running is even better for stress than beating up a teddy bear.

For the first half-mile, my mind was muttering away at the things that were bothering me, and then finally the kinks soothed out and I was able to enjoy it.

I thought about the baby, and wondered whether I wanted a boy or a girl. I realized that it doesn't really matter to me. I also realized that I disagree with Bucky; I hope it has his eyes, not mine. Those stormy-sky eyes, except without the constant torment in them. I wonder whether it will have any special abilities, being his. I guess I'll find out once it starts to kick. That thought was briefly terrifying; could I be injured by a strong enough kick from the inside?

I'm not going to think about that. I brood enough as it is. And anyway I have the world's finest doctors annoying me on a weekly basis.

Keeping the protein thing in mind, I ate two cheeseburgers today. I think I'm up by fifteen pounds now.

Bucky came over in the early afternoon and we took another slow walk through the neighborhood. He seemed tired, but it's hard to tell with him. I suspect he could probably go without sleep for a week and you'd never know.

I wanted to kiss him for the entire walk, and I'm afraid I took a shortcut back to the apartment. We went inside and sat on the sofa. I wasn't sure how to break the ice. Should I just kiss him?

He examined me. "I recognize that look."

"What look?"

"The look that says you want something but think I'll argue about it."

I couldn't help smiling. "I was thinking... I want..." DAMN it was hard to say... "... to kiss you. Or for you to kiss me. Or something." That wasn't awkward at all.

He looked at me intently for a moment. "So kiss me." His voice was perfectly calm, almost a tiny bit challenging, as though he were daring me to do it. That's a side of him I haven't seen before. I think he was teasing me actually, now that I think about it.

You don't tease someone you feel sorry for, so I think I like that.

I felt a little uncomfortable; I could feel my face going red. What if I kissed him and he didn't kiss me back? (In retrospect that was a stupid thing to worry about, but suddenly I was in fifteen-year-old-Jessie mode, and desperately nervous.) I decided to avoid that possibility altogether. Instead of his lips, I leaned forward and ducked slightly to the side and kissed the soft skin just below his earlobe.

He didn't move, but I heard the breath huff from his nose in what might have been a suppressed gasp.

I kissed him again, slightly lower.

"Jess..." he breathed. "Christ, I've missed you."

I drew back to look into his eyes, and he reached for me and kissed me, hard.

We spent the next hour or so making out like teenagers. My body remembered him, but I didn't really know what he liked and what he didn't; I slowly and nervously experimented until I felt him react. He, on the other hand, seemed to know EXACTLY what I wanted, kissing me all over my neck and shoulders like a professional incubus until I could barely breathe. He had me soaking wet in five minutes. For revenge, I let my hand slip down and gently brush against the bulge between his legs; he groaned and took my hand firmly in his metal one and began to kiss my palm, his eyes meeting mine with a slightly reproving look.

We kept going until I was startlingly near to coming. I've never had an orgasm from stimulation strictly above the breasts, but this came awfully close. Bucky was the one who stopped us.

He pushed me gently away and sat back on the sofa, closing his eyes with a sigh. "Okay, okay, enough. We're gonna go too far if we keep going."

"Gee, how terrible would that be?" I asked with a trace of irritation. My clit was throbbing almost angrily.

He opened his eyes and glanced at me. "I don't want to hurt you."

I nodded, trying my best to understand. "Okay, but... Bucky, I'm not a very patient girl."

"Well, that much hasn't changed then." He smiled.

"How much longer do you want to wait?" I asked.

"Just... not today."

"Alright. Not today."

We started kissing again at the door just before he left, and almost couldn't stop again. He managed to escape finally.

DAMMIT, I want him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been doing a fair amount of research on pregnancy for this fic, and I have to say, my sympathy for mothers-to-be now knows no bounds. The advice is ALL OVER THE FUCKING MAP. The only thing worse than pregnancy advice is the hellish minefield of advice for new parents.


	16. Chapter 16

Wednesday, April 16th, 2014

Fuck, I hate Wednesdays. Couldn't keep any food down today. I can't tell if the morning sickness is getting better or worse. Yesterday left me frustrated and ill as it was; group therapy was just the icing on the cake this morning.

Maybe if I start writing about group, it'll be more bearable.

There's a lady named Maia who suffered brain damage in a car accident five years ago. As a result, she lost a good deal of her memory, the use of one eye, some of her mental faculties (including her ability to read), her job, and finally her young son when her ex-husband had her declared an unfit mother. She now lives with her sister on disability. The ex-husband won't let her son contact her, even though the court has ordered him to.

Every time she talks, I keep flashing between rage and despair, and by the time she's done, I'm exhausted. I don't know how to deal with the kind of problems she has. I was never very good with anybody else's problems (until Bucky, evidently).

Then there's Jerry, who is barely coherent when he talks. I've been trying to piece his story together; it seems like he was injured on a construction job. After the injury, he forgot who his children were.

Every time someone with kids speaks up, I get the shudders. I can't deal with these people. I don't give a shit if that makes me shallow or weak. I can't do it.

Dr. Manscolm told me that it would get better. So far it hasn't.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm posting this one so late! Hopefully the content makes up for it. ;)

Thursday, April 17th, 2014

I woke up feeling miraculously better, after a rather explicit dream involving Bucky. I would write that down in further detail, but events later today make that unnecessary.

Joe squinted at me this morning over pancakes (I would ordinarily not be caught dead eating pancakes, but once again, I am no longer in charge of these things) and said, "You've been acting like you got laid since the other day. Please tell me it didn't happen on the couch."

I smiled. "I'm pretty sure you're the one who's been misbehaving. Where were you all day Sunday? And what about last night?"

"I am a man of mystery and intrigue. In the meantime, _you_ young lady have been strangely perky since you last saw Bucky."

"Well, I did not get laid."

"Liar."

"I _did_ get kissed."

"You're glowing because you got _kissed_? Sis, you're in love again."

I nearly jumped. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I barely know him! I know him from a notebook and about ten conversations."

"You told me that the notebook said it was love at first sight the first time. I don't see why it couldn't be the same the second time."

I rolled my eyes, but he did have a point.

I _do_ feel like I'm in love. And maybe that's a memory that's returning, because it feels familiar. This heady rush of feeling... then again, we've established that I'm currently a sweaty heap of hormones. "You know, I might be glowing because of the pregnancy. I've heard some women do that."

"If it were that, you'd have been glowing like this all week. To my knowledge you are not significantly more pregnant right now than you were three days ago."

"Maybe you just didn't notice," I said, and was I actually enjoying this conversation?

I was. We were bickering and it was fun.

How long has it been since something was fun?

I thought about the notebook's descriptions of my bickering with Bucky, and I felt a sudden desperate wish that he were there. I thought about calling him. But what if I really was in love again? Something about the idea made me wilt inside. _Chicken shit_ , I accused myself.

After Joe went to work, I called Steve's apartment, and Steve answered. "Rogers."

"Hi, it's Jessie."

"Jessie... how are you?"

"I'm good."

"Really?"

I realized that he probably hadn't heard me say that word in quite some time. "Really. How are you?"

"Just fine."

"Um, how is Bucky?"

"He's annoying me."

I heard a voice in the background say, "I'm just trying to help!"

"You broke two dishes!"

I thought that had to be an improvement. "May I speak to him?"

"Sure."

Bucky was out of breath when he got to the phone. "Hi."

"Hi," I said shyly, feeling suddenly awkward.

"Um... how are you?"

I paused. "I'm better since your last visit."

"Really?" I could hear his smile. "I should visit again."

"When?"

He paused. "Um. I could come this afternoon?"

I felt a pulse between my legs, and I realized that if Bucky showed up today, he would definitely not escape with his virtue intact. "I should probably warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

I thought about the notebook. "I have another headache."

"Oh, well I don't have to come if you're feeling bad--"

"That's NOT what I mean."

If you listen very carefully, you can hear an erection happening over a phone line. "... OHHHHhhh. I see."

I smiled. "Come when you can."

"... I will."

I felt silly doing it, but I shut Bruno up in the closet before Bucky came. I didn't want to have a giant teddy bear staring at us the whole time.

When I answered the door at two, Bucky actually had a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Stargazer lilies and white carnatians. My heart rose up in my throat and then I think it fainted. "Oh, they're beautiful."

"I can't take full credit for them. My idea, but Steve's credit card. I guess it's from both of us."

"Then both of you are sweet." I let him inside and said, "I've never actually been given flowers before," and fuck if I wasn't tearing up again.

"Never?"

"None of my relationships before now were really all that romantic." I took the flowers from him and went to the kitchen to put them in a glass of water. He came up behind me as I filled the glass at the sink; I could feel his warmth before his hands were on my shoulders. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the scent of him.

"Jess," he breathed in my ear. "Are you sure you're ready? I mean..."

"Yes. I'm more worried about whether you are," I said. He paused, and pressed his pelvis forward against my ass, so that I could feel his erection. It was all I could do not to moan. I gasped, "Yeah, you're ready."

"I want this, but... I have to ask you something."

"Anything," I whispered.

"Will it hurt the baby?"

I turned around and brushed my lips against his. "Nope." Score one for the baby books, they said sex was just fine.

Out of respect for Joe's couch, I led Bucky back to my bedroom and we made love there.

Bear in mind, for most of my life I've hated the phrase "making love", but there's really no other phrase that works when that is in fact what it is.

It was just like I had described in the notebook. He knew my body, too, every inch of it; we must have had a _lot_ of sex. I sensed that he wanted to be in control, to watch my reactions, maybe just to make sure that I really wanted him, that I was really here. That he hadn't lost me after all.

So I relaxed in his arms and let him work on me. His mouth had me gasping in seconds, and that was just on my shoulders. He knew all the right spots to hit, and he hit the hell out of them; he gave me my first orgasm with just his fingers. The second with his mouth. The third time, he finally entered me and came inside me... and kept going. Just like the notebook had said. By the time he was satisfied, I was in a state of absolute, exhausted abandon.

We were spooning, and I felt myself going to sleep when I remembered something from the notebook. I shook myself awake. "Bucky... have you been sleeping lately?"

He kissed the back of my neck. "Yes. Steve has been enforcing a very strict nap schedule. Stop worrying."

"But you still don't sleep at night."

"No, but I don't need that much sleep."

I thought about that for a moment. "Stay here tonight. Sleep with me."

"What about your brother?"

"He's not invited. He'll have to sleep in his own room."

"That's not what I--"

"I know what you meant." I lightly pinched his arm. "Joe will make a big show of being irritated, and then privately go into his room and start picking out china patterns for us."

"He's a very interesting man."

"He likes you."

"I like him too. I'm not sure I want to live with him, though."

"And you don't want to live with Steve forever, either."

"Preferably not."

"Then we need to get jobs and find our own place," I said softly.

Bucky shifted, and turned me over in his arms (a somewhat complex operation, which he performed seemingly effortlessly) to face him. He kissed me. "Two weeks ago we were at arms' length, and now you want to live together?"

"Yep. I blame your sexual prowess."

"If only I could make a living from it."

I started giggling. "I'm not sure I want to share you."

"Good point."

We ate something and made love again, but Bucky wouldn't stay the night for some reason.

As he was getting ready to leave, he kissed me deeply and whispered, "Jess. Are you remembering yet?"

I shook my head. "Not really. It's all new to me. But it's amazing."

He nodded, a touch of sadness in his eyes.

I said, "Bucky, do you still love me?" I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it for some reason.

"So much that it hurts." He kissed me again. "How do you feel about that?"

I took a deep breath. "I think I'm falling for you."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against mine. "That's the best news I've had in weeks."

"Sure you don't want to stay?"

"Next time."

Which means there's going to be a next time. I feel giddy and stupid just thinking about it.


	18. Chapter 18

Friday, April 18th, 2014

I'm running fast and smoothly now, and it's having a beneficial effect on me: I feel like my body is more my own. I need all of that feeling I can get, especially on the days I spend mostly puking.

Dr. Manscolm today. He looked very cheerful. He says they're making excellent progress in BB17. I'm not really sure how to feel about that, but he says that once the technology is fully understood, they may be able to retrieve even vaulted memories from my mind. So that's interesting.

I spent a lot of the day thinking about Bucky and just replaying our lovemaking in my mind. I think Dr. Manscolm would have been able to tell how distracted I was, if he hadn't been so excited and distracted himself by the technological developments. Just remembering Bucky's thighs between my own was enough to send my mind off on a tangent.

When I got home, I called him. "Hi."

"How are you?"

"Missing you already." I felt a mixture of shyness and boldness.

"Yesterday was amazing," he said quietly.

"When will it happen again?"

He chuckled. "Not today unfortunately. Believe it or not, the powers that be have decided to give me something to do."

"What's that?"

"Writing my memoirs. Not exactly fun, but it's something."

I frowned. "You mean... your kills."

"My missions, yes."

I had a sudden sinking feeling. "So... you're being asked to write a novel-length confession?"

He paused. "That's an unpleasant way to think about it, but yeah. Jess, I have the ability to close the case on dozens of unsolved murders. If it's the only thing I can do to... undo some of the damage I've done, then I'll do it."

I didn't like it. At all. Maybe before I would have been okay with it, but Bucky was the father of my unborn child, and it suddenly mattered very much that nothing bad happen to him. "Do you have any assurance of immunity?"

"Fury says that he'll do what he can for me."

So, no assurance whatsoever. "How much power does he have to protect you?"

"I don't know. But I need to do this."

I hung up the phone with a lump in my throat.


	19. Chapter 19

Saturday, April 19th, 2014

I must have had a blinding attack of the Stupids yesterday, because Dr. Manscolm basically told me that Hydra had a technology that could break my vault, and my reaction amounted to, "Cool."

No. Not cool. If this is true, then that could be why Hydra wanted me so badly. They _did_ want what was in my vault. And I'm betting not just Hydra data, but SHIELD data. I have stored hundreds of SHIELD messages that were never committed to paper. I read in the notebook that Maria Hill said I was the best EID that SHIELD had. How much had they utilized me, compared to the others? How much data do I possess?

I am the only way to access that information.

And I have no idea what it is. It could be anything. 

I say "Hydra wanted me"... I should be saying "Hydra wants me". They're not dead yet.

There's something I need to do, right now.

(Later) Well, that was enlightening.

I'm still not used to being this new ranking Person of Interest. Today was the first time it occurred to me to flex my importance and see how far it would get me. So I called Steve. And I said, "I need to talk to Nick Fury, as soon as possible." And Captain America gave me Nick Fury's cell number and asked whether I needed him to come over, you know, just in case I was in some kind of danger.

No, it was Steve who asked me that, because he's my friend.

I told him, "I honestly don't know what kind of danger I might be in. It depends on whether Hydra has a functioning mind-wiper somewhere that we don't know about. It likewise depends on just how trustworthy our own scientists are with the one we've got."

I could hear Bucky's voice faintly in the background. Steve's voice was muffled as he responded. I need to teach him about the mute button; he's still in the habit of covering the phone with his hands... a moment later he said, "Sit tight, we're coming over."

I hung up and dialed the number Steve had given me. Fury answered the call with, "Agent Couring, how's your head?"

Well, of course he would know my number, he's Nick Fury. I said, "It's much better sir. I need to speak with you, if you have a moment."

"What can I do for you?"

"Dr. Manscolm told me yesterday that there was a chance he could break into my vaulted memories with the mind wiper technology. If that's the case, then Hydra knows about it. And if that's the case, I and every other EID that SHIELD has ever had are in danger."

"I see."

"Sir, we need to contact them all and get them into some kind of safe custody."

"Point of fact, the same thing occurred to me when you were captured. I've found most of them."

"Most of them?"

"There are a few missing. We've put our best resources to finding them. The ones who we did find are currently safe and under observation."

"Not... interned?"

"Once upon a time that would have been the standard response, but I've recently been given reason to change a few of my policies. They're all at home and free to go about their business, but I've assigned protective detail."

That was interesting. "Do I have protective detail?"

"You don't need it. Agent Barnes visits your apartment several times a day and spends most nights surveilling the grounds."

I blinked in shock. "He didn't tell me that."

Fury paused. "That's between the two of you to discuss, but rest assured that if he weren't doing it, I would have assigned somebody. Hydra still wants you, and I'm afraid I'm selfish and don't want to give you to them."

"Sir, I hate to ask this, but can we trust our own scientists with this technology?"

"You can trust Dr. Manscolm."

"Can you give me a good reason why?"

He paused. "This is privileged information, but I don't need to ask you whether you can keep a secret, do I? Frederick Manscolm's daughter was a brilliant neurologist in her own right. She disappeared in 2011. When we released SHIELD's encrypted files, we found a record of her capture; she was tortured and murdered by Hydra agents because of her work on synaptic tagging."

"What's synaptic tagging?"

"She was researching how long-term memory works."

I swallowed. "So some of Hydra's knowledge about memory manipulation may be just a few years old."

"That's what we guessed. We hope they haven't really had a chance to utilize it. Dr. Manscolm is determined to stay ahead of them; he has access to files that his daughter never revealed to SHIELD. I've given him free reign as long as he reports everything to me."

"And are you sure he is?"

"Let's just say that my trust issues are probably deeper than your own. I have my ways of keeping an eye on him. If I feel I can trust him, so can you."

"Okay." I'm not sure how reassured I am by that, but okay. I said, "Sir, I feel a little bit... useless. Well, maybe not useless but..."

"Is 'helpless' the word you're looking for?"

"Maybe."

He paused, and I sensed he was choosing his words carefully, which is kind of surprising since I imagine he's the type who always does that by default. "The best thing that you can do for yourself and for us is to continue what you've been doing: keep trying to remember. Cooperate with Dr. Manscolm. Keep yourself safe. Stay healthy. Stay in contact with Barnes. You are the only person who can do these things. Nobody else can do them for you."

It was a comfort, even if a small one. And he was right. Nobody else lives in my mind; nobody else can do the kind of work I have to do. "I'll do my best, sir."

"Is there anything else?"

I felt as though he were ending the conversation, but I said it anyway. "I want to see the other EIDs."

"What for?" He sounded surprised.

"We need to compare notes, sir. Any one of us could have been the subject of Hydra experiments in the past without even knowing it; we have a better chance of finding that out if we work together."

He considered it. "The idea has merit. I'll get back to you on it."

"Thank you, sir."

"Take care, Agent Couring, and I mean that."

"I will."

The doorbell rang a few minutes later, and I opened the door to Steve (looking concerned) and Bucky (looking wary and determined). "Um, hi guys."

Bucky came inside with a movement so quick that I didn't even realize he had moved until I was in his arms. "What's wrong, what happened?" His voice was tight.

"Nothing, apparently," I said, gently pushing him away and beckoning the two of them further inside. We sat down at the dining room table. "It sounds like I'm a little late to the party on a few things. For one thing, the fact that Hydra may have the ability to break into my vault. For another thing, the fact that all the EIDs could be in danger as a result. For a third thing, the fact that _you_ ," I pointed at Bucky's chest, "have been spying on me night and day."

Bucky's face flushed a tiny bit, but his eyes held my own. "Jess... I can't lose you again."

"And it was partly my idea," Steve offered.

"Only because you knew I'd be pacing the floor at night and driving myself crazy otherwise," retorted Bucky.

"Okay," I said. "I understand why you're doing it. What I don't understand is why you didn't tell me."

"Because you had no idea who I was or why you should trust me," Bucky said.

I bit my lip for a moment. "Okay, point."

"I was going to tell you."

"Well, now I know."

"Now you know."

I touched his hand and glanced at Steve. "I guess you've told him that none of this is his fault, right?"

"I've tried," Steve said wearily.

"I'll never believe that," Bucky said.

"Then believe this: what happened to me wasn't all bad. In fact it helps us now. Hydra going so specifically after me tells us that I have valuable information."

Steve said, "If it's valuable to them, that means it can hurt them."

Bucky's eyes widened. "You don't mean that you're going to let them do things to your brain, do you?"

I said, "I mean exactly that. If they can create a device that would restore my memories, I will let them try."

"No," he said bluntly.

"It's not your decision," I said.

He struggled with himself for a moment, and then abruptly got up so violently that his chair fell backward. He picked it back up and put it in place, and then started pacing the room back and forth. "So you're just going to let them strap you into a machine and dig into your brain. You're fine with that?"

"I'm not fine with it, but I'll do it."

"Jess, you have _no_ idea what you're agreeing to. You don't know what it's like."

"I know--"

"What if they made the memory loss even worse? Hydra was better at erasing memories than bringing them back, and Manscolm has no idea what he's doing."

"Bucky--"

"You've already lost a year, you want to lose more? How about your entire childhood, would that be fun? There are still parts of mine that are gone. No trace, just... gone."

"Bucky--" Steve tried.

"They _don't care_ about your personal memories, Jess, only the information that's useful to them. Why should they care what happens to you afterward?"

"They aren't Hydra," I said.

"Yes they are!" he said, stopping in his tracks. "That's the whole point!"

"No, they're not," Steve said patiently. "Every Hydra agent has a record in the files we decrypted. We've flushed them all out."

"You don't know that!"

"What if that's what's in my brain?" I said. "What if we can't end Hydra without restoring my memory?"

Bucky sat down hard and put his face in his hands.

Steve and I exchanged a worried look. I said, "Bucky... I joined SHIELD after high school for a reason. I wanted to do something important with my life. I wanted to help the world."

He scrubbed his face with his hands and laughed darkly. "That's exactly what I wanted when I enlisted. It's what all young people want until they get to know the world better and realize that it doesn't deserve to be helped."

I took his metal wrist in my hand, gripping it firmly, and said, "Sergeant Barnes, our child is about to be born into that world you just so easily dismissed."

He looked at me for a moment. "And what if it hurts the baby?"

"I would never do anything that would hurt the baby," I said.

"It would hurt it to have a mother who didn't know who it was."

I didn't have a ready answer for that.

Steve said, "Bucky, has it occurred to you that if they can get all of the information from Jessie's mind, Hydra won't have any reason to kill her anymore?"

Bucky looked back and forth from Steve to myself. He said to me, "Someone once told me it was childish to put yourself in danger without any regard for who you'd be leaving behind."

I paused, something falling into place in my mind. "That conversation is in the notebook. Page 73."

"What does it matter what page it was?"

I stood up, putting my hands flat on the table. My heart was pounding. "It was page 73. 'You're not a kid anymore. You can't go off to fight without thinking about who it's going to hurt if you die.' It's at the bottom of the page."

Bucky and Steve looked at me with utter bafflement.

"Don't you see? I can remember exactly where it was! I can remember the exact words! Can I remember other things?" I thought about it. "Yes. The first time we had sex is on page 85. 'Everywhere he touched me I could feel my body unfolding like a flower in the sunlight.'"

Steve turned bright red and coughed, and Bucky stared at me. "Uh, Jess..."

My breath was high in my throat and I started laughing. "Oh my god, I can remember! I can remember the whole thing!" I looked back and forth at Steve and Bucky, who still looked confused. "Don't you get it? I was always able to memorize something I read or heard the first time, but I lost that when I vaulted myself. I have it back! I can do it again!" I stopped, trying to think of more to say, and suddenly a very familiar feeling came over me. I internally sighed as I outwardly burst into tears and sat back down with a thump. I am so tired of bursting into tears all the damn time.

Bucky and Steve both looked at me in horror. "Jess... don't cry, what's wrong?" Bucky said, leaning forward and putting a hand on my arm.

I tried to cry, laugh, and talk at the same time, and failed. "I'm just... it's just... I'm so happy... it's coming back! I got it back!" I cried harder.

Steve quietly got up and went to the bathroom, coming back with a box of tissues. He handed them to me. I tried my best to calm myself, blowing my nose. Bucky said, "I'm glad, Jess. I'm happy for you." He smiled at me.

I took his hand in mine. "Please don't take this away from me."

He stared. "Take what away?"

"The one chance I have to get better. I have to get into that vault, Bucky. I have to." I don't think I realized how desperately I needed it until I said it out loud.

His eyes hardened for a moment, and then he blinked and they were just unhappy. He shook his head. "Fine," he said hoarsely.

I tried to express my gratitude with my eyes, not trusting my voice. I knew that everything I had to do would be easier if I did it without having to fight him.

Steve said, "Anybody want a cup of tea?"

"You don't drink tea," said Bucky.

Steve winced. "That's what my mom always used to do in situations like this; make everybody tea."

"How about a whiskey instead?" said Bucky. Then he blinked and said, "Oh, wait..."

I chuckled. "Tell you what, I'll make us all a nice glass of fruit punch. And I have to eat something or I'll get sick."

"Okay," said Steve.

"And then you both can start telling me anything else you've been hiding from me."

Bucky half-smiled. "Okay."

It seemed there wasn't much else to tell. Steve had been helping Fury hunt down Hydra agents, and Bucky had been keeping an eye on me. Dr. Manscolm had been studying Bucky as well, but Bucky hadn't been cooperative and Manscolm didn't seem willing to push it, so their sessions were tabled for the moment. I said, "No chance you'll reconsider? What if he can recover the memories you've lost, too?"

"Nobody will ever dig around in my head again," Bucky said quietly.

"Fair enough." He has as much right to his decision as I have to mine.

Steve had a briefing with Fury to go to, so he left a few minutes later. After he left, I stood up, took Bucky's hand, and led him back to the bedroom. We didn't have sex, we just lay together and talked while I pillowed my head on his shoulder. He told me about the Howling Commandos, I told him about EID training... what parts we could remember. The fatigue soon caught up with me and I fell asleep against him.

When I woke up, he was gone. There was a spray of cherry blossoms on the pillow next to me.

I know he can't be far. He's somewhere close by, as unobtrusive as a shadow, keeping one eye on the street and the other eye on my window.

I'm worried about him, but there's no safer feeling in the world than knowing he's there.


	20. Chapter 20

Sunday, April 20th, 2014

I told Joe about Bucky at breakfast this morning, and Joe spluttered, "But that's ridiculous! If he wanted to protect you, he could just live here with us!"

I was a little surprised that the idea came to him so easily. "Well... I think that might be too... relaxed, for him."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"He doesn't sleep," I said softly. I guessed yesterday that the only reason Bucky has been sleeping at all is probably because Steve's been occasionally taking over watchman duty for him at my place. Which means that on the days that Steve is on duty somewhere else, Bucky isn't sleeping at all. And I have no idea what to do about that. I can drag him indoors, but I can't force the man to sleep. Not when such a massive load of guilt is keeping him awake.

"That's it. I need to talk to him," Joe said firmly. "Get him in here."

"How exactly should I do that?" I asked.

Joe cleared his throat and called out loudly, "Bucky! Get your tight, sculpted ass into this apartment this instant!"

I really didn't think that would work, but sure enough, a few moments later the door slowly opened and Bucky peeked inside, his cheeks flushed and eyes wide. "Joe?"

"Inside, now."

Bucky came meekly and uncertainly inside. I did my best not to smile. Joe was generally an easy-going guy, but he could bark out orders with the presence of a drill sergeant and had zero compunction about using that ability. Bucky sat down at the table with us.

Joe said, "You have to sleep sometime."

"I can't," Bucky said flatly.

"Well, you can't not, so it sounds like we're at an impasse, and something is _going_ to give," Joe said reasonably. "It's most likely going to be your sanity."

"I'll be alright."

Joe leaned forward, his eyes hard and narrow. "You, sweetheart, have a baby on the way. If you break, who's going to be that baby's daddy? I can't do everything myself!"

Bucky paused and took a deep breath. "I have to--"

Joe cut him off with, "No. Baby on the way."

"I can't--"

"Baby."

"Listen--"

"Baby!"

"But--"

" _BAY-BEEEE_! Do you understand, Superman? None of your arguments mean _shit_ right now! If you think you feel guilty now, just imagine how you'll feel when you finally fall asleep in the middle of a night shift at the exact moment when Jessie and the baby need you! And that is _exactly_ what is going to happen if you keep on like this. Now you may be the Ultra-Frosty-Soldier or whatever, but this is _my_ apartment and I am in charge here. What we are going to do is this: we are going to call Mr. Fury, and have him appoint someone else to watch Jessie half the time. Night or day, you pick." He paused as Bucky stared at him. "Pick! Night or day?"

Bucky cleared his throat and looked at me as though asking for help. I kept quiet. He looked back at Joe, who was glaring at him like a snake about to strike. He said, "Day. I don't sleep nights anyway."

"Excellent," Joe said in a sweet, cheerful tone of voice as though he hadn't been yelling just a moment earlier.

"Just tell Fury to double the day watch," Bucky said. "He's already got me shadowed."

I blinked. "For your protection or mine?"

"I didn't ask," Bucky said. "It might be to protect the world from _me_ , but I have to hope he'd pick someone more skilled if that's the case. I spotted this guy in the first five minutes he showed up." He looked at Joe. "Which is why I've stayed alert. You're not going to find a better pair of eyes than mine."

"Then you'll have no objection to going with us on Tuesday to look at paint for the baby's room," Joe said. He nodded at me. "She's useless at that kind of thing."

"Hey," I said in protest.

"And maybe _you_ will finally start to take an interest in these things if we bring him along," Joe said to me pointedly.

I rolled my eyes and decided to let Joe have his victory. "Maybe."

"Now I am going to go to work. Jessie, call Fury, double the watch or whatever you have to do, and Bucky, you are hereby _ordered_ to take a nap. Do whatever it takes. You're going to need as much sleep as possible, because I guarantee you that you're not going to be getting any once the baby arrives." He left.

Bucky and I sat in silence for a few minutes.

Bucky looked at me. "Does he know that I could break his neck like a twig?"

"He does, he just doesn't care," I said. I tried to think of a way to explain my brother to Bucky. One memory surfaced. "Joe has known he was gay since he was ten, and the other kids at school figured it out when he was about fourteen. One day they caught him after school, beat him up and then held him down and shaved his head."

Bucky's jaw firmed. "Bullies."

"Yep. Our parents were pretty steamed, but he wouldn't say who had done it so there was nothing they could do. The next morning, he came to me with a black magic marker and said, 'I need a favor.' He had me write across his bald head in big block letters, 'STILL GAY'. He went to school that way and refused to wash it off until the school counselor practically begged him to three days later."

"Sounds like something Steve would have done."

"You may be right. Joe's always been that way, too... he just isn't afraid of what people might do to him. He was almost eighteen and I was fifteen when our parents died, and you should have seen him facing off with anybody who tried to separate us. He got a lawyer and fought with the courts to keep me out of foster care. I'm still not entirely sure how he pulled it off. He once told me, 'Fear just isn't worth my time.'" I paused and smiled at Bucky. "How many people do you meet like that in life?"

"Not many." He smiled. "At the moment, I know four... Steve, Joe, Peggy Carter, and you."

"Me? I'm afraid of all kinds of things."

"You stared down the barrel of a gun and told me you loved me."

"Oh." I blushed. "That."

"Your parents would burst with pride to know their kids grew into such amazing people."

I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't. I stood up and went to him and straddled his lap, taking his face in my hands. "Joe's right. I need you to take care of yourself."

"I don't think I can sleep," he said quietly.

I looked at him speculatively. "I bet I can wear you out."

"I didn't mean that as a challenge."

"I'm sorry, have we met? My name is Jessie and I have this tendency to charge at any problem head-first with the speed of a runaway train."

He smiled. "Damn, I love you."

I kissed him. "I have a call to make, and then we're going to bed. For as long as it takes."

It took three hours of sex and another hour of me holding him and slowly stroking his hair before he finally closed his eyes and kept them closed. The last thing he said before slipping away was, "Please don't fall asleep."

"I won't," I said soothingly. "I'll protect you."

And I did. I sat next to the bed and kept watch like a hawk on amphetamines. I think if a whole platoon of Hydra agents had showed up at the door I could probably have killed them with my bare hands rather than let them disturb him.

In sleep, his face relaxed and the constant furrow between his eyebrows smoothed out. He looked absolutely beautiful. My heart rose in my throat as I watched him. I have the same feeling now, just thinking about him; this mixture of absolute helplessness and amazing power.

He slept until dusk. At one point he fell in REM sleep and began to murmur soft words. I leaned in close and heard him say, "Is she okay?"

I said in a low voice, "She's fine. Relax."

"And Steve?"

I blinked back tears. "He's fine too. Everybody you love is safe."

He sank back into deep sleep.

So this is what being in love is.


	21. Chapter 21

Monday, April 21st, 2014

I went for my run with Bucky in tow this morning. He's been following me on my morning runs anyway. He borrowed some of Joe's workout clothes for the occasion, and I had the opportunity to ogle his ass in running shorts. Joe probably got in a glance or two himself, though he didn't say anything to me about it. Bucky's a much better runner than I am, which hardly surprises me. He was sweet enough to keep my slower pace.

Doctor day; Bucky came with me to see Dr. Javier, who cheerfully loaded him up with pamphlets to read, saying, "Let's get more involved, shall we? Yes I think so." Dr. Javier has a habit of agreeing with himself out loud. Bucky started reading the pamphlets and after a few minutes his face was pale and he was giving me terrified looks.

I said mercilessly, "Hey, just imagine how _I_ feel."

We tried to ultrasound for the baby's heartbeat but either it's too soon or the baby is hiding from us (I can't really blame it, considering the kind of people we are). The visit to Dr. Nami was less partner-friendly, so Bucky stayed in the waiting room. I considered telling him to go back to the apartment, but I realized he'd probably been following me on doctor visits for weeks now, so this really wasn't too different.

The MRI had revealed an inconsistent pattern of brain activity, but no real damage. Dr. Nami sounded as she always did, somewhat confused and hopeful at the same time.

An hour and a half later (we had lunch), Dr. Manscolm brightened when he saw me walk into his office waiting room with Bucky by my side. "Bucky! It's great to see you!"

Bucky looked at him suspiciously. "I have some questions for you."

"Then I have some answers for you. Come on in."

Bucky grilled Dr. Manscolm for a full hour on what exactly the doctor planned to do to bring my memories back, what risks there were for me, what risks there were for the baby, how long it was likely to take, was it really worth it, how far had the research gone, and so on and so forth until my head was pounding and I felt exhausted. Dr. Manscolm answered every question patiently, but it was clear that he was still finding out a lot of the answers himself, so he couldn't be as clear or specific as Bucky wanted him to be. Bucky's frustration grew and grew until he finally burst out, "Do you even know what the hell you're trying to _do_? You've never seen it done. You've never felt it done to you. What right do you have to be playing with this technology?!"

Dr. Manscolm flushed a little, and said, "None whatsoever. I'm not doing this research because someone put a mantle of divine right on my shoulders, Bucky. I'm doing it because there is no other way to keep Hydra from hunting Jessie down and taking what they want by force. What do you think they're doing right now, as we speak? Research and development on this same technology. This isn't a stroll; this is a race, and Hydra has one hell of a head start. They will not stop, they will not give up, they will not get tired, and they will not lose focus. We can't afford to do any of those things either."

"It's my job to protect her," said Bucky. "I already failed once."

"If you had truly failed, she wouldn't be sitting here now. And as I understand it, not only did you save her, but you ensured that all of the intelligence Hydra extracted from her died with the agents that were her captors." Dr. Manscolm folded his hands. "You did your job, Bucky. Now would you please let me do mine?"

Bucky looked at me with haunted eyes. I didn't know what to say.

Dr. Manscolm said, "Bucky, you're not the only person Hydra has damaged."

Bucky looked back at him. "What did they do to you?"

Knowing Dr. Manscolm's history was making my eyes water. I tried to hold it together as he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. Then he looked at Bucky and I saw just a hint of the pain he must have been holding back all the time he worked with me. He said, "You nearly failed at protecting everything you loved. But I _did_ fail. They took my daughter from me."

Bucky let that sink in for a moment, and then he leaned forward. "Then they ripped out your heart. That's what Hydra does. That's why I don't trust you. Because all you have left after that is revenge."

Dr. Manscolm shook his head slowly. "I don't want revenge. I want extinction. I want to take their power to hurt away from them. With Jessie's help, we can do that. With your help, we can do it even faster." His eyes were intent upon Bucky's. "Bucky, help me."

Bucky tilted his head uncertainly.

In that moment, I felt afraid, and I wondered whether Bucky was right. Dr. Manscolm clearly wanted to duplicate Hydra's experiments, and I believed that he truly wanted to destroy Hydra, but that wouldn't stop the research from getting into the wrong hands. I don't know where the right hands would be, either. How could I trust the doctor, a man who had absolutely nothing left to lose?

I said, "This is getting us nowhere."

They both turned to me as though they had forgotten that I was there. Ugh, men. I said, "Dr. Manscolm, if you get that mind wiper working, would you be willing to try it on yourself first?"

"Without hesitation," he said. "But it wouldn't do us any good. I have no blocked memories to extract, so we won't know it's truly working until we can work with you."

"How about one of the other EIDs? A volunteer," I stressed. I figure if I was stupid enough to volunteer for this, surely one of the others would be too. You don't become an EID in the first place unless you're willing to let people play with your mind.

"I'm amenable to that. I intended to work with them after you, anyway."

I looked at Bucky. "Does that work?"

Bucky reluctantly nodded.

I said, "Now I have an incredible headache and the baby wants to eat."

"Then that's enough for today. Bucky, if you have any further questions for me, you have my card. I'll do whatever is in my power to answer them to your satisfaction." We stood up to leave, and he shook Bucky's hand, then mine.

As we were about to walk out the door, Bucky turned back. He said, "Doctor, if you damage someone's brain doing this, will that stop you? Will it stop you if you kill someone?"

Dr. Manscolm hesitated, and said, "Probably not."

"I'm not satisfied with that answer," Bucky said, and walked out the door. I followed.

The line dividing SHIELD from Hydra is even thinner and frailer than I thought it was before. But Dr. Manscolm's research is essential to defeating Hydra; I feel that very strongly. We need him.

I hope he's not crazy.

When we got home, Bucky told me he had to work on his writing project, and disappeared. I'm not sure where he went, but I'm guessing he needed to be alone for that. I read baby books until Joe came home.

My body is going to undergo some pretty disgusting shit.


	22. Chapter 22

Tuesday, April 22nd, 2014

Fury, to my surprise, doubled both the day watch and the night watch on me. He said, "See that Barnes gets some sleep." I cannot figure out how that man knows the things he knows.

Bucky was reluctant to spend the night at first, but last night he gave in. To my surprise, I fell asleep against him and didn't wake up until morning--to find him still asleep next to me. Being the light sleeper I am, I know I would have woken up had he been restless, so he must have slept soundly. What would account for that? According to the notebook, we never reached that point.

When I propped myself up to a seated position, his eyes opened and filled with fear. He sat up abruptly. "What time is it?"

"Shhhh. It's 9am. We've slept nearly ten hours."

"Ten hours?!" His voice was high and taut.

I didn't like where this was going. I said sharply, "You needed that sleep, soldier."

He was breathing fast. He looked out the window, scanning the ground two stories below. After a moment, I saw his eyes focus, and he visibly relaxed, but his eyebrows lowered threateningly. "Asshole."

"What?"

He looked at me with chagrin. "Sorry, not you, I'm talking about our protective detail down there. He just flipped me a bird."

I smiled. "Let me guess. You've been fast friends with every SHIELD agent you've met so far." I know the opposite is probably true.

He winced. "You know, once upon a time I was good at talking to people."

"Once upon a time you didn't know what people were capable of doing to you." I hugged him. "Come on, I'm hungry."

"Are you ever not hungry?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I felt tears come to my eyes.

His eyes widened. "Oh god. I'm sorry, please don't cry."

I tried not to. "I'm going to gain probably thirty more pounds. I'm going to look like a whale. You'll want to leave me." I couldn't believe the ridiculous words that were coming out of me, but I couldn't seem to take them back.

Bucky rubbed his eyes, and then gripped my shoulders and looked at me sternly. "When you were captured by Hydra, I thought I was going to go insane. I was barely able to hold myself together as we tracked you down. Do you know what we found?"

I shook my head. "We've never talked about it."

"You were strapped into a chair, your face black and blue, with one of those damned things around your head, unconscious. I saw you like that, and I turned back into the Winter Soldier. I don't remember the next hour. I know I killed most of them. I didn't really wake up again until you did, in my arms, and looked up at me. And you didn't know me." He took a deep breath. "I thought they had destroyed your mind."

"I didn't know that," I said, feeling stupid that I couldn't think of anything better to say.

"Steve was the one who called for reinforcements and medics. I just sat there holding you. Steve was the only person who could convince me to let go of you long enough for them to examine you; if I'd been there alone, I probably would have killed anybody who got near us."

A tear slid down my cheek.

Bucky gently brushed it away. "From the time you were captured until the time you woke up in the hospital, I didn't eat or sleep. That was two days. If you hadn't woken up..." He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. "But you did, and we're here now, together again. I will never leave you. Do you understand me? I will _never_ leave you. And last night... sleeping like that... I won't do that again. I..."

I shook my head. "Stop, just stop. Are you trying to tell me that this not-sleeping, this has been going on for a whole month?"

"I've slept some. As little as possible."

"No fucking wonder you slept ten hours last night! You should be asleep right now!"

"Jess..."

I grabbed his hair in my fists and kissed him fiercely. "Shut up. Food, then more sleep. And that is ALL you are going to be doing today. That is IT. I'm ready to go to war over this, Bucky." I gritted my teeth and shook him slightly.

He gently disengaged my hands from his hair. "I've had enough of war for a while." He kissed my fingertips. "What do you want to eat?"

"Strawberries and bacon."

He blinked at me and opened his mouth.

"I wouldn't if I were you," I said.

He shut his mouth.

I told Joe that picking out paint for the baby could wait until later. Bucky and I slept, or he slept and I watched him, and we occasionally got up and ate something, then slept again. As soon as I'm done writing this, we're going to go to sleep for the night.


	23. Chapter 23

Wednesday, April 23rd, 2014

I've become conditioned to wake up on Wednesdays and think, "Fuck. No."

But this morning, I woke up next to Bucky, who was evidently in a playful mood because he didn't let me leave the bed for another hour. By that time my spirits were considerably lighter, but they sank again after breakfast. Bucky noticed. "What's wrong?"

"It's group therapy day," I said glumly. "I sit in a room with a bunch of strangers whose problems are even worse than mine, and that's supposed to make me feel better. Or... alter my perspective. Actually, now that I think about it, I have no idea what it's supposed to do."

"How do you know their problems are worse than yours?"

"Because they talk about them. You've never done group therapy before, have you?" He shook his head. I said, "You sit in a circle and talk, one person at a time. Usually the leader introduces a topic at the beginning to get us started, but the main topic is always our memory loss. Dr. Manscolm never mentioned this to you?"

"No. Probably because I can't exactly talk about the things I do remember. I mean, writing them down for SHIELD eyes only is one thing, talking to a bunch of civilians..."

"Got it." I paused. "Do you ever... want to talk about it?"

His eyes darkened. "No."

"But if the notebook is true, you've spent time telling me about your missions before."

"No, Jess, we used to talk about everything having to do with Hydra but that. I never told you specifics about my missions."

"But I knew about them."

"You didn't know the gritty details, or how many times it happened."

I moved my chair closer to his and put a hand on his knee. "You make it sound like something awful would happen if you told me."

"Something awful _would_ happen." He covered my hand with his own, his eyebrows lowering. I could tell he was struggling to put something into words. "There's this look that people get. All of my victims had it when they saw me and knew I was going to kill them. Everybody in Hydra who worked with me had it. This look of... not just fear... it was like there was this question in their eyes. 'Why?'" He looked up at me. "When somebody does something terrible, it doesn't matter how experienced or tough you are, there's always at least a split second where you feel confused. Why did this happen? How could a person possibly be capable of this? I saw that look so many times that it just felt normal after a while. The only person who wasn't afraid of me was Pierce, and that's because I was nothing more than a piece of meat to him." He took my hand in his, absently threading our fingers together and apart and together again. "Do you know, it was only a couple of months ago that I remembered meeting you for the first time?"

I smiled, surprised. "Wish I could remember it."

"I remember seeing you, standing there in BB17 in your uniform, looking at me with these wide eyes. I thought I was seeing Peggy again. Not just because of your face, but because of the way you looked at me. You weren't afraid, and you weren't disgusted, and you weren't bewildered, you were just... curious. Maybe nervous, but not afraid."

"I didn't know anything about you at the time."

"No, you didn't, but you found out pretty quickly, and you still never gave me that look that everybody else did. Right now, walking down the street, people don't look at me that way because I cover this up," he indicated his arm. "Steve never looked at me that way, neither does Joe. But at that point in my life, you were the only person alive who actually saw humanity in me. When I looked you in the eye, you looked right back."

_What else was I supposed to do,_ I thought, but I merely nodded.

"Subconsciously I think I was expecting you to figure it out at some point. Like the time you helped me back into the freezer. You knew I had just attacked someone, and you walked right up to me and shooed the Hydra lab rats away and spoke calmly. I had to respond to you. And then there's the fact that... you bought me a rug and a lamp. A calendar of pinup girls. I have to wonder now what the hell you were thinking." He smiled at me.

I coughed. "According to the notebook, I was just... going on instinct I think. And I felt..." I wasn't sure it was the right thing to say, but I decided to say it anyway. "... I felt sorry for you."

"How do you feel now?" He looked at me searchingly, and I knew he was looking for fear in my eyes.

I slid my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It went from warmth to heat quickly, as it always does; just the touch of his tongue against mine was enough to send shivers down my spine. He cupped one of my breasts in his metal hand and delicately brushed the tip of his thumb over my nipple, which firmed to aching hardness in an instant. My breasts have been incredibly sensitive for weeks now. I moaned. His kiss grew harder and more demanding.

We had just had sex an hour before and I was already wet again. I broke the kiss and tried to catch my breath. "I have to go soon."

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" he asked, breathlessly.

I tried to think of an answer, and then it came to me. "I think I just figured out something my mom said once when I was a kid. It always confused me."

"What's that?"

"The opposite of fear is love."

He stood up and pulled me to my feet and I lost myself in his arms as he kissed me again, and I felt something like a strange force building and trembling in his body. I didn't realize it until now; he has been holding himself back all this time, being careful with me. I felt a sudden hot determination to make him lose control. I slid the palm of my hand down his chest and belly and pressed it hard against the front of his pants, and he made a soft noise.

"I thought you had to leave soon," he whispered.

"I have ten minutes. Get over here."

I pushed him against the wall right beside the window and damn the eyes I knew were waiting just outside; I dropped to my knees. His eyes widened as I unbuckled his belt. He frantically undid his pants and pulled himself out, and I went to work with my mouth and fingers and all the skill I could possibly conjure up. It took several minutes, but he finally began to lose himself, closing his eyes and groaning, his hips rocking slowly. I sucked harder, and he started to curse, softly and then louder, clutching at the wall behind him as I brought him steadily closer. I broke off and looked up at him. "Bucky."

He opened his eyes. "Yeah?" he gasped.

"I'm not afraid of you." Slowly, looking up into his eyes, I slid my mouth onto his cock again, and his eyes grew wide and amazed. I held eye contact as I started again. He was still looking at me when his orgasm hit, his breath thick and harsh and his eyelids getting heavy. His knees suddenly buckled and he gripped my shoulders to keep from falling, hard enough to bruise. I swallowed and it felt familiar, but strange at the same time... He finally slid down the wall into a heap in front of me, panting.

My mouth was wet to nearly dripping. He stared at me and reached up to wipe the remains of his orgasm off my lower lip. I bit his thumb gently. "Jess," he murmured.

"I'm going to be tasting you all through therapy," I said softly.

He swallowed hard. "Will that... help you?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I suspect it will."

It did, though I'm afraid I was a little distracted throughout the session. When I got home, Bucky practically attacked me and carried me back to the bedroom where we frantically stripped and fell to the bed, wrestling ourselves into position. As he entered me he growled, "I just spent an hour and a half thinking about my icing dripping down your chin. Drove me absolutely crazy."

"Icing," I smiled. "I haven't heard that one before."

"We used to call girls like you icing experts." He bit my neck. "Not that I've ever really known a girl like you."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Yes." He moved in me, and further conversation became impossible.


	24. Chapter 24

Thursday, April 24th, 2014

Mild hilarity this morning:

I was laying in bed all muzzy-headed when Bucky woke up and started moving around the room, whistling cheerfully and off-key. I'd never heard him whistle before, and couldn't understand why he would pick now of all times to start. Maybe it was a good sign? I mumbled, "Good morning, nightingale."

"Good morning, sleeps-a-lot. Up for a run?"

"No."

"Yes you are. Where's your workout getup?"

I opened one eye just in time to see him open the closet. I didn't have time to warn him.

When all twenty-five pounds and six feet of Bruno popped out of the closet and onto Bucky, he emitted a yell that could probably be heard a mile away and stumbled backward, his arms flailing, then fell on his back with the giant teddy bear on top of him. Bucky kicked and struggled and was frantically patting at his boxers. I didn't realize he was searching for a weapon until it was too late.

Two things happened almost simultaneously: first, the bedroom door flew open and Joe burst in with a baseball bat in his hands and a wild look in his eyes, his hair mussed from sleep. Second, Bucky found a knife and used it. Bruno, for lack of a better word, exploded. He was stuffed with down, and Bucky really tore into him, so within seconds the room was filled with tiny wisps of pale yellow feathers that clung to everything they touched, including Bucky, Joe, and myself. Bucky scrambled backward, crab-like, escaping Bruno's clutches. As the down settled, it was clear that Bruno was dead, gutted like a fish.

We all blinked at each other for a moment, and Joe, with remarkable composure despite being covered with feathers, said, "Am I actually awake right now?"

I felt an unfamiliar feeling rise up in my throat, and I was worried I was going to puke right there and then, but what actually came out of my mouth was a sudden gust of wild laughter. I laughed and laughed, laughed until I felt nearly sick, laughed until I was gasping for breath and laying on my side, holding my stomach. By the time I had myself under control, Bucky was back on his feet and examining the giant fluffy corpse on the carpet and Joe was leaning on his bat like a cane and plucking feathers off his face as he tried not to smile.

Bucky glanced back at me and indicated former Bruno. "Friend of yours?"

"He _was_ ," I said, gasping. "Oh god. Poor Bruno." I noticed the tightness in Bucky's face and said, "Bucky, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

"Fine," he said shortly. The knife in his hand disappeared. I have no idea where it went (or for that matter where it came from, which is mildly disturbing, but also reassuring considering that there are people who want to kill us).

"And what exactly did Bruno do to merit vivisection?" asked Joe.

"He... fell on me," Bucky mumbled, his face reddening. "Out of the closet."

"Remind me to never, ever do that," said Joe.

"It won't be a problem," I said. "You've been out of the closet for years." Worst joke ever, but I started giggling again. Joe coughed a few times, desperately covering his own laughter.

Bucky glared exasperatedly at me. "It's not _that_ funny."

Joe said, "Excuse me while I go vacuum myself. I can't go to work looking like I was bukkaked by a flock of geese." He left, and that was enough to send me off again. I could swear I heard Joe laughing through his own bedroom door after it closed behind him.

Bucky kept glaring at me, and the corner of his mouth quirked a little. "Knock it off. I mean it. Enough already."

I covered my mouth with both hands, my face red and eyes streaming, still laughing.

"Seriously." Something like the beginnings of a smile was threatening to break out over his face.

I gasped for breath. "Sorry, sorry. Come here. Are you sure you're okay?" I paused as Bucky sat down beside me. I put a hand on his shoulder, which was tense.

"No, I'm not okay," Bucky said tightly. "I mean... honestly." He glanced sideways at me. "That bear could have killed me."

I lost it again, falling backward as I laughed hysterically. And then Bucky was on top of me, tickling me.

"So you think that's funny, huh? What about this? And this?"

"Stop! Nooooooooo..." I grinned and fended him off. We paused, looking at each other, and then dissolved into laughter together. It was long minutes before we were able to stop. I don't think I've laughed like that since I was a kid. Bucky has a wonderful laugh, incidentally, full and unreserved and joyful.

It took over an hour to clean up the mess. We made an executive decision to skip our morning run.

I feel like I should be bothered more by the fact that Bucky is capable of hiding a knife in his boxer shorts (or... wherever), but then, I've already dealt with the fact that he's killed dozens of people. And now, one stuffed bear.

I do feel bad for Bruno. He didn't deserve to die that way.

I can't wait to tell Steve about this.


	25. Chapter 25

Friday, April 25th, 2014

I've almost grown accustomed to the whole vomit-run-breakfast routine in the morning.

Bucky and I spent a few uncomfortable moments this morning trying to figure out whether we're living together or not. He wants to go back to Steve's place tonight. I'm trying to be okay with that (it helps to think that Steve might be lonely). I know that Bucky feels weird about living with Joe. I hope it's not the gay thing. I suspect it might be that Joe has a habit of discussing anything and everything with zero shame. For instance, he sternly asked me this morning whether Bucky and I were having rough sex, because that might lead to miscarriage. I reassured him that we were being careful while Bucky turned red and annoyed-looking.

If we're going to find our own place, I need a job.

I talked to Dr. Manscolm about that today. He thought it was a splendid idea.

"You really think so?"

"Absolutely! Jessie, the more outside input and stimulation you get, the more your brain will be triggered to remember the things you've lost. So what brought on this new desire to work?"

"I was thinking about maybe moving out."

Dr. Manscolm hesitated over that one. "To live with Bucky?"

"We've talked about it."

"I have to say that I'm not sure about that idea."

"Why not?" I asked, surprised.

He folded his hands. "Both of you are doing very difficult work right now, remembering the things you've suppressed or lost. That can be risky for both you and the people around you. Bucky is a strong, resilient man, but he is also deeply traumatized..."

"Stop. I know where you're going with this, and Bucky would never hurt me."

"Actually, I agree with you to a point. I don't believe he would ever hurt you intentionally. But picture the following scenario: Bucky recalls a memory that triggers a post-traumatic stress response, and he goes into a fugue state for several hours. During that time, you start experiencing violent cramps and vaginal bleeding. What do you do?"

I didn't have a ready answer for that one. It wasn't a nice image. "I would... call Joe, I guess."

"Exactly. Your brother is psychologically stable and eager to help you. The fact that his firm is an adjunct of SHIELD ensures that he can take the time off to do so when necessary."

"I didn't know he works for SHIELD." I was stunned that Joe hadn't told me.

"Only peripherally. But close enough to reap the benefits. SHIELD also set up your living situation, ensuring that you had an apartment only a short walk away from my office."

I felt suddenly stupid. Why hadn't I wondered about that before? I hadn't tried to drive since my brain damage, but I hadn't needed to; the hospital was practically on top of us.

"And then there's Steve Rogers..."

"Who is out hunting Hydra half the time," I pointed out.

"Not as much as he'd like. SHIELD keeps him from disappearing into the field for longer than a day at a time, and he's agreed to that. Why, do you think?"

Oh. Duh. "So he can keep an eye on Bucky."

"Smart girl. Bucky's entire consciousness and will were harnessed by Hydra to turn him into a killer. That conditioning is still there, possibly accessible by the wrong hands. Steve Rogers is the only person alive fit to supervise Bucky Barnes. He cares deeply for him, knows all about his history, and is physically capable of restraining him or at least slowing him down if Bucky should suffer a psychotic break."

I felt a cold twist of uneasiness in my stomach. I spent a second wondering whether I was finally afraid of Bucky, but all I really felt was fear for his safety. And Steve's. "How likely is that to happen?"

"More likely than I would feel comfortable with if you were living with him."

I thought about Bruno, and how very much more wrong that episode could have gone. "I think Bucky is more stable than you think."

"I most sincerely hope so. You must realize, I have to go on limited data because he won't let me analyze him."

A new thought occurred to me: Bucky has not once said that he wants to live with me. Kind of the opposite, in fact. What has happened to my brain that it can't make simple connections anymore? "I think Bucky may agree with you."

"That wouldn't surprise me. He's no fool, and he loves you."

I looked at my hands and wondered just how heavily discussed my relationship with Bucky was in the top eschelons of SHIELD. I decided to play doctor for a moment. "How do you feel about that?"

"Your relationship? Honestly, my feelings are mixed."

"I'm surprised by your candor, doctor."

Dr. Manscolm smiled. "I'm not precisely a therapist, Jessie. I can express an opinion now and then." To my surprise, he stood up and walked around his desk to sit in the chair next to mine, looking intently into my eyes. "You've been good for Bucky. Anybody can see that. But as your doctor, I fear for your safety in Bucky's presence. I know you have no fear of him, and that only makes me more concerned. Alternatively, as a SHIELD neurologist, I know that the best spark to both of your memories being retrieved is each other. But there's also a danger of all this emotion clouding the waters. And then there's the fact that Bucky's protectiveness may limit your usefulness in defeating the remains of Hydra."

I stared at him.

He smiled ruefully. "See? Mixed feelings. But lest you doubt it, I am your friend, and Bucky's, and as your friend I can see the obvious: when Bucky can put his guilt aside, the two of you make each other very happy."

I felt tears come to my eyes. I'm starting to get used to that. I nodded.

"That said, I still think that living together is not really an option at this point in time."

I took a deep breath and nodded again. "You've convinced me. I do still want a job, though."

"I'll approach Fury and DeSilva about getting you some appropriate work."

"Who is DeSilva?"

"Janelle DeSilva is the HR coordinator for SHIELD. I can tell you that her job has been incredibly interesting lately."

From the name, I pictured a perfectly coifed and cool executive, slender and attractive with tightly-bound hair and cold eyes. "Can't wait."

When I got home, Bucky wasn't there. I tried to feel that this was the best thing for both of us.


	26. Chapter 26

Saturday, April 26th, 2014

Didn't throw up until _after_ my run today. Shook up the routine a little.

Today has been full of people.

Nick Fury came to see me first of all, I think to get a look at me with his own eyes and decide whether I was ready to step out and rejoin the world. We talked briefly about nothing of any importance, and then I asked him point-blank whether I was going to be able to meet with the other EIDs or not.

Fury nodded soberly. "I've arranged something for tomorrow evening. That's why I'm here."

I was surprised. "How many of them are there?" EID was a solitary job, I didn't really congregate with my colleagues, only with the people who needed me for messages and data. I've never known how many of us there are.

"Five that we've found. There are two more that have disappeared completely."

Something told me that 'disappeared completely' meant something different coming from Nick Fury than it would have meant coming from someone else. I.e., they're either on a different planet or at the bottom of the ocean. "Do the missing ones have anything in common?"

"Apt guess. They're the only two besides you who were used by Alexander Pierce."

I felt myself go pale. "That's not a good thing."

"I came to that conclusion myself. I want them to meet here if that's possible." His tone advised that I make it possible if it wasn't already. "What with the doubled security and the frequent visits from Barnes and Rogers, this is the safest house SHIELD currently has."

"I don't think that's a problem." Joe will probably go on a cleaning binge, but otherwise no problem. "I guess Dr. Manscolm told you I wanted a job?"

"He said something along those lines, yes. Unfortunately it's not a good idea for you to resume your old job, but I think you could manage a little administrative work."

I felt relieved. "Thank you sir. And... I didn't ask the doctor, but I'm assuming Bucky needs to find work at some point too, won't he?"

"Actually, I think Barnes is fine just protecting you and documenting his missions."

"In other words, you don't think other people are safe around him," I said quietly.

Fury raised his eyebrow. "Actually it's the other way around. He's the one who's not safe."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't keep up with the news, do you?"

"Not lately." Not ever, really. World news always depressed the hell out of me, and I didn't like social media very much.

"If you did, you'd notice that the name James Buchanan Barnes has been popping up here and there, along with his face and hints about an assassin. Somebody somewhere is talking to the press about him, and his history. We're suppressing what we can, so far it's just conspiracy sites and color news, but the rumor has been planted. And plenty of his past was unearthed when we released SHIELD's top secret files. People will eventually start putting two and two together."

"Is Hydra pushing the rumors?"

"That was my guess."

"So they figured out he's alive."

"It probably wasn't that hard to figure out after you were rescued. Now that they know, they're making it hard for him to stay hidden. They want something from him."

"Why not just try to kill him?"

Fury just looked at me.

I winced. "Yeah, I guess that's not the easiest thing to do."

"No it's not. But by trying to flush him out of hiding, they may be trying to get someone else to kill him."

"Like who?"

"An angry mob, perhaps? Who knows. All I can tell you is that we need to know what Barnes knows as soon as possible. So he really needs to focus on his work."

I felt the subtext like a knife edge. "Rather than me."

Fury tilted his head philosophically. "Oh, don't worry, I know better than to take a run up _that_ particular glass mountain. But I want you on our side, Agent Couring. Please encourage him to work fast."

Fury was not a man who said _please_ very often. I nodded. "Will do, sir."

After he left, I did a crossword puzzle (Dr. Manscolm says it's a good workout for my brain), and then Steve and Bucky showed up. It's been a while, so I was delighted to see Steve and impulsively gave him a hug when he walked in. He looked surprised and pleased. Bucky greeted me with a tight hug and a kiss on my forehead. "How are you?"

"Pretty good. Fury just came by."

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look as they sat down. Steve said, "For any particular reason?"

"Yeah, he's finding me a job and he's gathering the EIDs together for me to meet with."

"What for?" asked Bucky.

"We're basically the unwritten secrets of SHIELD in human form. I want to see whether any of them know anything about Hydra. I'll be able to tell if they've been vaulted." I sighed. "But according to Fury the only ones who had any contact with Pierce have disappeared."

"That's not good," said Steve.

"I didn't think so either. So are you guys off somewhere exciting, or were you planning to stay a while?"

Bucky put his arm around me. "We're staying until you kick us out."

"Well then, I hope you brought sleeping bags." I grinned.

"Nah, we thought we'd all squeeze into your bed together," Steve said with a perfectly straight face.

Bucky turned to Steve with an expression of outright horror.

I said, "I get to be in the middle." Bucky turned to the look of horror back to me.

Steve said, "We'll need some pajamas..."

I nodded. "My brother has extra."

"But it's getting awfully warm at night," Steve pointed out.

"Well, why not just sleep in your underwear? That's what Bucky does when he's here."

"I guess our problems are solved."

"Ass or face?" I said.

"What do you mean?"

"I sleep on my side. Do you want me to lay with my ass toward you or my face?"

I have never been more delighted in my life than when Steve Rogers looked me dead in the eye and said, "I've always been a bit of an ass man." His face didn't even turn red until he was done saying it.

I looked at Bucky, who was turning purple. "For chrissakes, Bucky, we're joking!"

He took a deep breath. "Okay, I thought I was the crazy one, but the two of you are sicker than I am. Certifiable. Absolutely cuckoo."

"We're not crazy," I said. "We're just terrible people. Right Steve?"

"The worst."

Bucky sighed heavily, looking very put-upon.

Joe picked that very moment to arrive home from work; for once he wasn't late. He walked in the door and spotted us sitting in the living room. "Well now, what are we congregating for?"

"We're planning an orgy!" I said brightly.

"Not without me you're not," Joe said without missing a beat.

"Okay, okay, enough," Steve started laughing. "That's where I have to get off the ride."

"Joe," I said, "Why are you home on time? Is the Mysterious Someone busy tonight?"

Joe took off his suit jacket and airily replied, "You're not going to get it out of me." He went into the kitchen.

Bucky looked interested. "Get what out of him?"

"Joe has a new boyfriend," I said. "He won't tell me anything about it, which I think is unfair because he knows way too much about my sex life."

"I wouldn't except that it takes place in my apartment!" called Joe from the kitchen.

"That can be fixed," Bucky said tightly.

"How?" I said. "You want us to start having sex at Steve's place?"

Steve's eyebrows went so high I thought they were going to disappear into his hair.

Bucky glanced at Steve and I saw him detecting the chance for revenge. "Why not? I've been sleeping on his couch, but I'm sure he'll give us the bed for, y'know, fun times."

"Don't worry, Steve," I said. "We'll mop up the wet spot when we're done."

Bucky looked at me incredulously and Steve threw his hands up. "Stop! I give up!"

I merely smiled as Joe came back into the room. Joe said, "Darling, are you re-traumatizing the soldiers?" He had a beer in his hand and his hair was ruffled.

"Just testing their flexibility." I looked at Joe in concern. For his perpetually-immaculate hair to ruffle, he had to run his fingers through it back and forth several times, something he only did when he was very, very upset. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing I'm going to tell a crowd," Joe said stiffly, sitting down.

"Why not, since you know all our business already?" Bucky said drily.

Joe gave him a cold look for a moment, and then sighed and relented. "Fine. Lawrence and I are having issues."

I blinked. "Isn't that the name of the agent assigned to you while you were in hiding?"

"Lawrence Eitzing?" Steve said, his eyes wide. "I know him. He's a good man."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Make a big deal out of it why don't you."

"What kind of issues?" Bucky said in an even tone. I tried to read his body language and came up blank; I decided that he felt uncomfortable and was trying his damnedest not to show it by being more curious than he really was.

Joe eyed Bucky for a moment, and I wonder if he came to the same conclusion. He shrugged. "He can be a little bit too much the warrior at times."

Bucky surprised the hell out of me by leaning forward and saying intently, "Did he hurt you?" I read violence in his eyes. When did Bucky get protective of Joe? The idea made me feel warm inside, and I realized just how important it is to me that my guys all get along. ("My" guys?)

"What? Oh good god no," Joe said, smiling. "Well. Not physically. He's just... a little shut off."

"Uh-huh," Bucky said patiently.

Joe ran his fingers through his hair again. "For starters, he would be very unhappy if he knew I was telling you guys that I'm in a relationship with him. He's deeply private." Joe's eyes softened. "So separated from the whole world."

"Joe," I said warningly. "Did you find another fixer-upper?"

Joe shrugged uneasily. "I don't think so."

I frowned. That was a yes. "What have I told you about dating broken men and trying to fix them, Joe?"

Bucky coughed into his fist and glanced at me. Which seemed unfair to me, I mean, after all, I _did_ fix him. Or... save him. Or... how much of it could I really take credit for anyway?

Steve and Joe were looking at me sideways too.

I sighed. "Okay, I am hereby recognizing the fact that everybody in this room has a bad habit of trying to save the whole world. Now can we get back to my brother's love life?"

Bucky said, "Is he worth it, Joe?"

Joe smiled. "When he's not shutting me out, he's divine."

Bucky shrugged. "Then forget the bad stuff and focus on the good stuff."

Steve nodded. "Life is way too short to let a flaw or two get in your way."

Joe stared at them. "It must be so amazingly simple to be a straight man."

Bucky and Steve looked at each other with shared bafflement and shrugged in unison. I stifled a giggle.

Joe sat back in his chair and said, "So who's up for a nice game of Scrabble? As long as we're all here."

"I'm in," I said.

"What's Scrabble?" asked Bucky.

"Oh, you'll love it," Joe said. "Here are the rules: you get seven letters to make words out of, and you place them on the board in such a way as to score points. Then you watch as Jessie the human encyclopedia mops the floor with you, and then you drink heavily."

"I'm in," said Bucky.

"Sounds fun," said Steve.

"No fair," I said. "I can't drink."

"Want me to thump you on the head to mimic the sensation of drunkenness?" Joe offered kindly.

"Don't say things like that, she's already way too comfortable with the idea of brain damage," Bucky muttered.

I sighed. "Where's the board?"

We played two games of Scrabble. Bucky and Steve did alright, though Bucky had a bad habit of not connecting his words to anybody else's tiles. Joe somehow found a way to spell dirty words at nearly every turn. He quickly got drunk, while Steve simply drank politely without it seeming to affect him at all. Bucky held his own admirably, but his cheeks flushed a little after a while. Joe openly stared at the other two as they drank two large bottles of whiskey. I just snacked.

As Joe predicted, I mopped the floor with them. Bucky kept giving me unreadable looks every time I played yet another 50-pointer. At one point, when Joe and Steve went into the kitchen to fetch more drinks, he leaned toward me, put a hand on my knee and said, "I always liked smart girls, you know."

I blushed. "Flirting will get you nowhere, Bucky. I'm still going to win."

He just smiled. I wondered how drunk he was.

I now know that Bucky is actually a little bit drunk, though it's hard to tell how much. The reason I know this is because first of all, he fell right to sleep after only one orgasm, and second of all, he's _snoring_ right now. I've never heard him snore before.

It's... really adorable.

I told Joe about the EIDs coming over tomorrow night, and he just smiled and said it was fine. He'll wake up in the morning with a massive hangover and have a total meltdown over cleaning the apartment, I just know it.

Before Steve left, I hugged him again and kissed him on the cheek. He blushed and smiled, and then glanced at Bucky as though he were worried, but Bucky was just smiling at both of us. I'm not sure the two of them are capable of being jealous of each other. That may just be wishful thinking on my part, though, because I care more and more about Steve every time I see him. He's just so perfect that he almost shimmers. I don't think I could be in a relationship with that, it would be too much to live up to, but I do kind of love him.

I'm hungry again. Damn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In CA:CW, it was basically a given that everybody on earth somehow knew who the Winter Soldier was. Well, two years after the release of all of Hydra's files, that's semi-reasonable. This fic takes place much earlier, though, and Hydra's data has been only recently divulged; for Bucky to be showing up on the news, someone has to be helping bring the right information to the right eyes.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where my OCs start to get just... entirely out of hand. Um. Sorry?

Sunday, April 27th, 2014

Yeah, Joe freaked out. Apparently there was a speck of dust somewhere in the apartment that absolutely _had_ to be found. I helped where I could, but had to lie down before too long because my morning sickness came back. Joe dealt with his hangover headache by wrapping a wet towel tightly around his forehead, making strong coffee, and cursing steadily.

I've discovered that I pretty much have to eat tiny amounts of food constantly throughout the day. I'm still eating strawberries by the pound. Joe just keeps buying more without a word.

Bucky woke up late, went to the bedroom door, listened to Joe banging around and spewing profanity, and then tip-toed quietly back to the bed with an anxious expression on his face. He didn't seem the least bit hungover. He asked me if I wanted him to be there when the EIDs came, and I said no. Since talking to Fury, I've been worried about Bucky being seen by too many people, especially people with the gift of perfect recall. He left in the afternoon.

The other EIDs were scheduled to come by at around 8pm, which meant we didn't have to feed anybody dinner, but Joe insisted on having chips and dip and a veggie plate and soft drinks anyway. He's the ultimate host, really.

They were all on time, which made me smile. For an EID, timeliness is next to godliness.

The first to arrive was Samuel Lang, a large man with a bright smile that I only saw once, when I greeted him. The rest of the time, he looked nervous and suspicious of everything.

Next to arrive was Yumiko Marshan, a tiny, remarkably beautiful girl with large dark eyes. She also looked composed but her eyes were piercing. Something about the set of her shoulders said "aggressive".

Then there was Samuel Trainor--another Samuel--fortunately he asked us to call him Train. He looked completely relaxed, and I couldn't tell whether it was an act. He had a soft southern drawl.

He arrived with Whit Riehle, a small man with a mild voice who reminded me of either a priest or a serial killer. Whit was completely unreadable. He wore the exact same pleasant facial expression all evening, his clothing was unremarkable, his body language was monotone, his vocal tone never changed. I was fascinated by him.

I invited them all to sit in the living room with me, and introduced my brother to them. Joe said hello and then made himself scarce.

There was a silence that said we were all sizing each other up.

A word on that: EIDs are a particular breed. I always suspected that because of the way that I am, but now I have it confirmed by meeting more of them. We are loners, almost to a fault. We are not emotional by nature (I'm the exception there, but I still blame the hormones). We are ambitious, driven, and willing to sacrifice nearly anything for advancement. We had subjected our own _brains_ for manipulation so that we could call ourselves members of this elite team. Make no mistake, when someone in SHIELD finds out that you are an EID, it doesn't matter how far they outrank you, they will respect your dedication and the amount of trust the agency has in you.

We are essentially sharks with nearly infinite data storage capability.

I broke the ice with, "I suppose you all realize by now that we are probably being hunted by Hydra." Train winced a little, and I met his eyes. "If you have vaulted data on them, this conversation is not going to be very comfortable for you, but we have to do this."

"Why would Hydra want us?" asked Samuel.

"Why do you think?" asked Yumiko sharply. "We have data that was never recorded anywhere."

"So what?"

"So they may have found a way to break into our vaults," I said gently.

They all shifted in their chairs and exchanged worried looks, except Whit who simply kept his eyes on me.

"And I should point out that not all of us are here," I said. "Bren Greggory and George Steisz have been missing for weeks. Like me, they delivered messages for Alexander Pierce. I think Hydra has them."

Whit said, "Why is it that you know this and we don't?" His voice was reasonable and gentle and not the least bit challenging. It was as though he'd just asked me about the weather forecast.

"I've been working directly for Nick Fury since before our archives were compromised," I said. "I was one of the members of BRAND." That stirred them, except Whit.

"And why doesn't Hydra have _you_?" asked Whit, once again as gentle as a summer breeze.

"They did, for about a day," I said. "I was rescued by Steve Rogers and other operatives."

"What other operatives?" asked Whit. He was starting to make me nervous.

Yumiko looked at Whit and said, "You don't trust her."

"I don't trust anybody," Whit said amiably.

"That's probably a good policy to have these days," I said. "There's information that I can give you, and information I can't. You all know how that works."

"So what are we supposed to do about this?" Samuel asked.

"And why are we being followed?" asked Yumiko. I gave her credit for good eyes.

"You've been assigned protective detail by Fury," I said. "It's to keep you safe."

"I feel safer already," drawled Train. "I'm being protected by the man who all but destroyed SHIELD."

"You're being protected from Hydra by one of Hydra's greatest enemies," I clarified. "As to what we should do about this, that's why I wanted to meet with you. There's a doctor named Frederick Manscolm who is researching a way to duplicate Hydra's memory manipulation technology." Train winced again. I turned to him. "You already know something about that technology, I take it."

He didn't respond, merely looked at me with discomfort in his eyes.

"So he wants to hack our brains," said Whit.

"Yep," I said. No point in sugar-coating it. "Every piece of secured data on both Hydra and SHIELD was released a month ago, except the data inside our minds. There's something that they want from me in particular, and I don't think they got it when they captured me. I secured myself by vaulting the entire past year."

Samuel stared at me. "That's practically suicide."

"I had my reasons, which I kept a written record of, fortunately."

"What reasons?" asked Whit.

I looked him in the eye for a moment, and then did the only thing I could think of. "I want the following information vaulted."

They all straightened and looked at me with attention; getting ready.

"I am carrying the child of an enhanced soldier who used to be Hydra's chief assassin."

"The Winter Soldier," Whit said.

I nodded, feeling more frightened than I wanted to admit. "You've heard of him."

"You're carrying his _child_?" Yumiko asked in horror.

"It's a long story," I sighed. "I vaulted myself to protect that information, and all data pertaining to my relationship with him."

"How did he feel about that?" asked Whit.

"He's the Winter Soldier, I don't think feelings come into it much," said Yumiko. She was still looking at me with distress and perhaps a little disgust.

"You'd be surprised," I said. "He escaped Hydra, and now works for SHIELD."

"I have to say, I'm trusting you more and more with every word that comes out of your mouth," said Train sarcastically.

"And what does he do for SHIELD, precisely?" asked Whit.

"At the moment, he protects me," I said. All of them except Whit exchanged worried glances.

"I'll do my best not to threaten you, then," said Whit pleasantly.

"End vault." They relaxed. I sighed. "Listen, I know that none of you want to trust me, or each other, but that's precisely what I'm going to ask you to do."

"I volunteer," said Whit.

"You... do?" I said, surprised.

"Let's take this apart piece by piece. Hydra wants something particular that is inside your mind. Your mind is damaged by data overload and will need to be repaired. The doctor is working on a way to do this, as well as a way to extract the data that SHIELD wants. But you are too valuable to be experimented upon. You've made a point of meeting with us. Therefore they need one of us to volunteer. I volunteer."

"Just like that?" I said, dumbfounded. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Terrified," Whit said with exquisite calm. "But I'm more afraid of what happens to us if we don't allow SHIELD to extract all of our vaulted data. We may be more valuable dead than alive, to Hydra."

"That's true," I agreed.

Samuel began to drum his fingers against his leg, nervously. Yumiko glared at him, and then at me. "So what about the rest of us?"

"That's up to you," I said. "You may all be safer with your vaults emptied. Or you may not want Dr. Manscolm poking around in your head."

"I'm not doing it," Samuel said flatly. "And not because I'm afraid."

"Why not then?" Train said.

Samuel looked slowly around the room. "I took a vow."

"We all did," said Yumiko.

"We made a vow to an organization that doesn't exist anymore, that betrayed its own secrets to anybody who would listen," said Train. "I'll do it. I'll let them take my data."

"I don't think I will," said Yumiko.

I nodded. "Do what you think is right."

"You're not going to try to convince us?" asked Yumiko, her eyes suspicious.

"I don't need to," I said. "Train and Whit are holding Hydra data. You and Samuel aren't." They stared at me. Whit chuckled softly.

"How did you know that?" asked Yumiko.

"Lucky guess," I said. Train was in obvious pain every time I mentioned Hydra, and Whit had just performed the most elegant rationalization I'd ever heard, meaning he was stepping around something big. "I would still ask you to consider it, though. And one more thing."

"What's that?" said Samuel.

"I think you should all quit, tomorrow."

"This is the only thing I've ever done," said Samuel quietly.

"What are we supposed to do, work retail?" Yumiko looked horrified.

"I'll ask Nick Fury personally to find you other work in SHIELD. But I think the era of using EIDs needs to end. We're almost sure that there is technology that can break us. That means we're compromised. That means we're useless in our current capacity." I paused to let that sink in. "There are plenty of jobs that require trustworthiness and a good memory."

"So is that it?" asked Train.

"That's all I have to say, but I think we should exchange contact information."

"For the corporate picnic?" asked Yumiko sharply. "Or a sewing circle?"

She was beginning to get on my nerves. They all were. I wondered if I had been this insufferable when I was in the thick of my job, too. I said, "None of us are good at maintaining relationships, am I right?" Silence. "Well, that works against us right now. I don't expect any of you to like me, or each other. But we need to keep in touch. Keep sharp eyes out. Report back to each other if we spot anything suspicious, because it could affect us all. I have a list of all our names and numbers here." I handed Whit a note card with all our names and numbers on it. He glanced at it and handed it to Train. Each of them looked at it for a few seconds and had it memorized; low tech, low hassle.

I shook hands with each of them as they left, with little warmth but some respect. Whit was the only one who lingered over the handshake. He looked at me for a moment and said, "Good luck. You're going to need it."

"I'll let Dr. Manscolm know that you volunteered. I appreciate you doing that."

"Think nothing of it," he said. And he was gone.

I called Nick Fury to let him know that he needed to find four former EIDs some new positions in SHIELD. He didn't argue. "Not a problem."

Not one of them so much as touched the food.


	28. Chapter 28

Monday, April 28th, 2014

I'd like to continue in yesterday's vein, and talk about adventure and intrigue and how we're all going to bring down Hydra, but first, something happened today that made all that seem completely unimportant.

Bucky went with me to see Dr. Javier again, and we tried the ultrasound again. This time, we got a heartbeat.

We couldn't hear it, but we could see it, along with a faint outline of the baby. In the center of the image was a tiny fluttering. "Do you see it? That's the heartbeat," said Dr. Javier, his voice quietly rejoicing.

I didn't even realize that Bucky and I were holding hands until he squeezed my hand and I looked at him to see tears in his eyes. Obviously I had started crying the moment the baby came into view.

I realized today that I have to start thinking of names.

After Dr. Javier cleaned the jelly off my stomach and left to do, well, whatever it is doctors do that leaves you stranded in the room for long minutes every damn time you go to the doctor's office, Bucky did something that touched me deeply. He pushed my shirt up a little and laid a soft kiss on my lower belly, placing his hand there, and then closed his eyes and pressed his ear to it. I didn't know whether he was listening or just using me for a pillow, but it brought more tears to my eyes. I stroked his hair for a few moments as he lay there, communing with the baby.

Then he looked up at me and said, "Thank you."

"What for?"

"I've taken so many lives; because of you, I got to create one. Just one. But it's enough to make me feel like I deserve to be alive."

Yeah, yeah, I burst into tears, blah blah whatever.

Dr. Nami wasn't able to see me today; I get the impression that she's also working on Dr. Manscolm's project. Dr. Manscolm seemed pleased that Bucky came with me again, and greeted him warmly.

I gave Dr. Manscolm a run-down of the meeting with the other EIDs, and told him that Whit and Train wanted to volunteer.

"Why would they do that?" asked Bucky.

"Because they each have something that they want us to know," I said. "And when they come in, I want to be there," I said.

"So do I," said Bucky.

I looked at Bucky. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

He looked at me with cold eyes. "No. But I'm going to be there."

Dr. Manscolm said, "Bucky, I need you to assure me that you won't interfere, no matter what happens."

"The whole reason I want to be there is to interfere if something bad happens, because I know you won't," said Bucky.

"Then I can't permit you to be there."

" _Permit_ me?" Bucky said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Permit you," Dr. Manscolm said with absolute serenity. "This is by far the most important project in SHIELD. I can pull every special agent off their current assignments and have them guarding your door if necessary..." Bucky opened his mouth to reply, and Dr. Manscolm cut him off, "And I suggest you think very carefully about what you're going to say next, because I will take threats against anybody's safety quite seriously. You're on our side, Bucky. I hope."

Bucky's face reddened, and he and Dr. Manscolm engaged in a short staring contest. Neither one of them blinked. After a few moments, Bucky said in a grating voice, "Fine. I won't interfere, but I still want to be there."

My temper flared up a little. "Why?" I asked.

He turned to me. "What do you mean, why?"

"I mean, why on earth do you want to stand there and watch, knowing you can't do anything about it? Are you trying to relive the good old days?" His eyes went wide. I said, "If it's anything like what I read in the notebook about when you went through it, you won't be able to stop yourself from destroying that machine within two minutes. Bucky, you think you're a terrible person, but it's not true. I think you are absolutely incapable of standing by and watching someone on your side get hurt."

His eyes said he was warring with conflicting responses; he wanted to argue, but the notion of him being a good guy had taken him by surprise. Finally he growled, "I refuse to just sit at home and hide from it."

"Nobody's accusing you of hiding from it but you," I said. "You faced that machine probably a hundred times. Isn't that enough to prove... whatever it is you're trying to prove?"

I could feel the argument brewing, when Dr. Manscolm interrupted. "I may have a different task for you, Bucky."

Bucky was breathing slightly fast now. He glared at the doctor. "What?"

"Protection and surveillance. There is a strong likelihood of our success, which means that Hydra is going to want to do anything in their power to stop us now. I'm worried there may be an attack during the experiment, but more than that, I'm worried about the chance of sabotage beforehand."

"Sabotage?" Bucky said.

"We have a 24-hour watch on the equipment now, but that may not be enough if we have an infiltration, and I'm not enough of a fool to think that we've captured all of Hydra's double agents. There is nobody on earth I would trust more than you to guard the machine from Hydra, except perhaps Steve Rogers."

Bucky blinked, once more shaken by hearing anything positive about himself. "You'd trust me to... protect it?"

"I would."

"When you know I want to destroy it?"

"I'm putting my hopes in the fact that you want to destroy Hydra more."

Bucky looked back and forth from me to the doctor, and back and forth again, turning the idea over in his mind. He finally said, "If I do this, I have a condition."

"What's that?" asked Dr. Manscolm.

"When all of this is over... when you've extracted the information you want... you let me destroy it. The machine and any prototypes you've created, the data files, everything. I want it wiped from the face of the earth."

To my surprise, Dr. Manscolm didn't hesitate. "Done."

Bucky nodded. "Fine. Where is it?"

"Downstairs in the basement levels, but it's still in pieces as yet. I'll let you know when we reach a point where I start to get nervous about outside interference. At the moment... I'm afraid we're still fumbling with the science."

When we got back home, Bucky wanted to pace and complain about Dr. Manscolm, but I stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Remember the heartbeat."

He placed his right hand on my belly and smiled a little. "Have you thought about names?"

"It occurred to me just this morning. I haven't thought of any yet."

His eyes twinkled. "How about Steve?"

I punched him lightly in the shoulder. "I _knew_ you wanted a boy!"

"Hey, it could be Stephanie."

"How about Joseph?"

"Oooo, good point. Middle name."

It felt like we were deciding on sandwich ingredients. "Fine. Stephen Joseph if it's a boy, Stephanie Josephine if it's a girl?"

"Perfect."

I frowned. "You and I have zero imagination."

"We're just lucky to have so few friends," he smirked.

"Are you trying to say something funny?"

"Oh hey look at the time, isn't it time for you to eat something?"

I glared at him. Unfortunately, he was right; I was starving. "Food, then bed."

"I'm not tired."

"I didn't say we were going to sleep."

"Oh."

Later, I surprised Bucky by suggesting a 69. He blushed.

I said, "What, have we never done that?"

"We have... a couple of times," he said softly. "It's, um."

"What?"

His face turned redder. "Nothing."

"Do you not want to do it?"

"No, it's fine."

"Fine?"

"Sure."

I wasn't sure he was really fine with it, but I pulled him into bed and we positioned ourselves, his face turning shyer and redder by the minute. I figured he would probably relax once it started. I gave his cock an introductory swipe with my tongue, and felt him start on me below...

We haven't been back together for very long, but I've learned some things that weren't in the notebook already. For instance, he can do things with his metal hand that he can't do with his flesh hand. The joints are simply stronger and more flexible. For another thing, he really seems to enjoy giving head, and not just because it turns me into human mush and nerve endings. I think it really turns him on. Some men are like that. I consider myself amazingly lucky, in soooooo many ways.

I felt my eyes want to roll back in my head as his mouth worked on me, but I took a deep breath and started sucking him, and that's when he made a noise I've never heard him make before (at least, not that I can remember). It was kind of a cross between a mewl and a growl, and his entire body shuddered. His mouth quickened its movements, and I moaned around his cock, and that sent another current through him like an electric shock. I was so fascinated that my own arousal retreated a little; I wanted to know what was happening to him.

Over the next few minutes, he absolutely fell apart.

I think now that there must have been some kind of ultra-deep taboo or kink in his mind about the 69 position. Whatever it was, it made it much more overwhelming for him than regular sex. His usual self-control shattered quickly and within short minutes I had him coming in my mouth. I knew I didn't have to stop, so I didn't. He didn't stop either; he was groaning deeply into my pussy as he moved his tongue and lips and I was getting close myself, driven on by the sounds he was making. He was rock hard again in an instant and clinging to me like a drowning man clutches a life raft.

Another thing I've learned recently: dirty talk turns him on like almost nothing else.

Experimentally, I stopped sucking him and rubbed my lips against his cock, moaning, "I love sucking you..." He spasmed and I was just in time to suck him dry for the second time.

He was getting close again by the time I was finally ready, so intent upon what was happening to him that my own orgasm took me by surprise. When he felt and heard me coming, I heard him call out, "Oh CHRIST!" against my skin and he was coming for the third time.

I kissed my way up the side of his thigh, over his hipbone, up his rib cage and then to his neck where I nuzzled in while he wrapped me in his arms (somewhat weakly).

"Are you okay?" I whispered.

"Mmmmph."

"Should we do it again tomorrow?"

He made an unintelligible mess of sound that might have perhaps included the phrase "I won't get any work done".

Which reminds me... Nick Fury left me a message during one of my appointments. I start my new job tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I have to take a short break from posting this fic daily, as my RealJob(tm) is trying to take up all my time. I'll be posting more soon, promise!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and better than ever, uh, hopefully. :)

Tuesday, April 29th, 2014

Bucky didn't stay over last night, but he did allow me to see him during my morning run, briefly. I waved, and he smiled.

It occurs to me that I still haven't really seen my other protective detail, nor the people that are shadowing Bucky, but then, I haven't really looked for them. Because I don't particularly care. It's easier for me to have wild sex and vomit at random when I don't think about the fact that I'm under constant surveillance.

I wasn't sure what to wear to work today. My EID uniform didn't seem appropriate, neither did the basic t-shirt-and-sweats ensemble I've been sporting since I left the hospital (it's actually kind of a wonder that Bucky still finds me attractive). I had to dig into the bowels of my closet for some slacks and a relatively nice shirt. The slacks were tight on me; I'll have to get some larger-sized ones, and then eventually I'll be getting maternity wear... ugh.

I reported to room H57 in the Triskelion at 10am. I haven't gotten out of the EID habit of being perfectly on time.

The receptionist paged Janelle DeSilva for me, and from the inner office emerged a complete surprise. She was a short, roundish woman in her sixties with a halo of frizzy gray hair and a deep gravelly voice who greeted me with, "So you're Hydra's famous Leak! Come on in, let's have some coffee and get acquainted." Her smile was sardonic but genuine, and her darting black eyes said _Don't underestimate me, I can strip you down to your component parts in seconds without half trying._ She walked with a limp. I liked her immediately.

I politely refused the coffee, explaining my delicate condition. Without a word, she went to a tiny fridge in the corner of her office and got me a bottle of water and a package of peanut-butter cheese crackers. "Thanks," I said, surprised.

"Is this your first?"

"Yeah."

She nodded toward a boisterous-looking photo of herself with a group of five men and women of varying ages, all with her sardonic smile. "I've done it five times. It was a while ago, but I still recall puking my guts out for the first few weeks every damn time. The bathroom is right outside the front office door, there are always snacks in this drawer, help yourself, and if you ever don't feel well enough to come in, just call and let me know. You'll be working out of this room here, very close by. I understand you're a former EID?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And now you're working with Manscolm the mad memory scientist."

"Uh, yes ma'am."

"Well, I have the perfect job for you. Your former team has already started on it, actually, so you'll all be working on it together."

"My former team? You mean the other EIDs?"

"Who else? Charming bunch of folks, incidentally. I don't think I'd trust that Yumiko girl with an ice pick and a grudge."

I bit my lip for a moment. "Nope, I don't think I would either."

"At any rate, you're all my new archivists. We've still got terabytes of data to sort through from Hydra's files, and given that you've all got top clearance, you're the perfect set for the job. I'm not going to vault you, but you do understand that anything you see in that room is to be kept inside this office?"

"Absolutely, but I'm confused... isn't all of the data public anyway?"

"Sure, but the public by and large have a very short attention span and an even shorter memory. I guarantee you that most of this information will be forgotten in under five years unless we ensure that it isn't." She rifled through some files on her messy desk. "I also understand you've got a couple of babysitters."

"Um, yes."

"Well, Sergeant Barnes can come in with you provided he stays out of the way. He's got his own assignment to work on anyway, and better here where we can secure his documentation."

I wondered whether Bucky heard her. Was he right outside the window? "I'm not sure how visible I want him to be while the other EIDs are around."

She pursed her lips. "Perhaps we should leave the decision to him."

I felt uncomfortable, but she was probably right.

DeSilva led me into a room full of filing cabinets and workstations attached to massive servers. She gestured around the room. "Totally cut off from all outside internet, so no web surfing, got it? Your job is to file and compile, file and compile. You'll get the hang of the system soon enough. Riehle is already on top if it."

"In a single day?"

"He's a sharp one."

I didn't deny it.

We went to a circle of computers on desks in the center of the room. There were blank folders, pens, and notepads scattered everywhere. My four new EID friends were all seated at the computers, busily reading and clicking. Samuel looked up and gave me a half-smile. "Jessie. I was wondering when you were going to show up."

I shrugged. "Couldn't let you guys have all the fun." Yumiko snorted, but didn't look up from her work.

"Riehle, show her around. I'll meet with all of you at 3pm, have your synopses ready." DeSilva stumped her way out of the room and back to her office.

I stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, looking around the room. It looked intimidating.

Whit stood up and shook my hand. "Welcome to the data nightmare of the century," he said pleasantly. "You can take this workstation here." I thanked him and sat down. He showed me the basic categories of data we were sorting things into, levels of intended secret classification (though it still seemed a bit pointless), global mapping, and how to tag and move files. I quickly saw that it wasn't difficult work, but very tedious and detailed. He also introduced me to the documentation system and showed me an example of the reports we were to submit to DeSilva on a daily basis. "We're expected to make connections between the data and analyze patterns," Whit said. "That means we have to talk to each other. So far, we're not very good at that."

"That's putting it lightly," Train remarked.

"So we meet once an hour among ourselves," Whit said. "Next meeting is at eleven."

I sat down, flexed my fingers, and began to open files and read through them.

About ten minutes after I started, I felt a sudden tension in the air around me. I looked up and noticed that the others were staring at something behind me (except Whit, who was still calmly working). I turned around.

DeSilva and Bucky had just entered the room. Bucky looked somewhat amused and curious as DeSilva set him up with a desk and some writing implements. They exchanged a few quiet words and he sat down while she stumped out of the room. He looked up at me, and winked. I felt a flash of irritation, but... it was his decision. And if I didn't trust the other EIDs, I'd never get anywhere with them. I smiled weakly at him and returned to work.

It took the others several minutes of exchanging worried glances with each other before they were able to get back to work.

Per Whit's estimation, the hourly meeting was something of a disaster. None of us had any kind of a natural conversational rhythm with the others, and nobody could agree on which data could be connected to what other data. Train and Yumiko in particular seemed to rub each other the wrong way, and bickered constantly (at least they were too professional to get into a true mud-slinging argument, but it was bad enough). Samuel didn't seem to like to talk at all.

I finally slammed my hands down on the table, making Train jump. "Okay, this is officially the worst meeting I've ever been in," I said. "Let's just take turns, each person gets five minutes talking about what they've been researching, and then we all take turns questioning them." I pointed at Yumiko. "You first." She looked ready to argue, and I cut her off with, "From here on, anything anybody says is either useful or problematic. Try to be useful."

She glared at me, but seemed to bite back whatever she was going to say. Instead, she said, "I've been analyzing SHIELD's investment patterns." She gave us a basic run-through of where some of the money was going.

When she was done, I said, "Questions, beginning with you," I pointed at Samuel.

He paused, and reluctantly said, "Um. You mentioned Harrisberg Machinists." Yumiko curtly nodded. "Well... they were a Hydra front, it looks like. Who authorized the investiture?"

Yumiko touched her screen. "Looks like Nia Travella."

I felt a sudden, searing pain in my head. I gasped and closed my eyes.

"What is it?" asked Whit.

Within seconds, I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. I opened my eyes and glanced up at Bucky. "I'm okay."

"What just happened?" he asked.

"Apparently I have vaulted data on someone," I said. "Or else my brain just spasmed. Either way, it's over. You can go back to work." Bucky looked concerned, but went back to his own table. The others visibly relaxed when he was gone.

I glanced at Train and Whit. Train was wincing. "You too?" I asked him.

He nodded painfully.

Whit said, "I've been compiling Hydra operative activities, she's on the list. We apprehended her three weeks ago. She stands trial in a couple of months."

"Sounds like we need a tag for all of this," I said. I keyed in the tag generator. "A6-2451VC. Any further questions? No? Okay Samuel, your turn."

After a few hours, we got into a smoother rhythm, and it even became interesting trying to tie the data together in new ways. I began to put together a diagram in the data mapping software, I figured DeSilva would probably appreciate a visual display of what we had done.

By 1:30, I was feeling exhausted and sick, and Bucky seemed to sense it almost before I did. He was at my shoulder again, saying, "I think that's enough for today. It's only your first day back."

I nodded, too spent to argue. But I had a pleasant feeling of having been useful. It's been a long fucking time since I felt that way. "I should eat. But let's compile our data first."

I left with Bucky and went home and ate something and then took a nap. He napped with me, his right hand warm on my belly.


	30. Chapter 30

Wednesday, April 30th, 2014

Fucking group. I was hoping that, given work, I might be able to miss it, but Dr. Manscolm was firm on the issue. I "needed" to go. I suppose at some point I can simply rebel and stop, but he seems to think it'll be good for me eventually, and I guess I have some morbid curiosity to find out exactly how that's possible.

Maia was quiet today, except for the several minutes during Bertrand's sharing that she cried. Bertrand has brain damage from complications due to HIV, and I can't even get my mind around how awful that is. He spoke today about how difficult life was for his partner.

Of course I started thinking about Joe and Bucky, and then I was crying too, feeling completely miserable about what I must put them through; Bucky and his fears of Dr. Manscolm's experiments on me, the way he's so fixated on making sure nothing bad ever happens to me again, the way he still blames himself. Joe, who is so patient with my emotional outbursts and frustration.

Someone handed me a box of tissues while I was crying. They're all very nice people, but I don't want to be among them.

Afterward I went to work with a feeling of relief. Things went somewhat smoothly today. The other EIDs have sort of accepted me as their leader (to my credit, I wasn't actually trying to be yesterday, I was just annoyed by the lack of organization), and I guided the data pooling sessions again. (What did they do before I got there, I wonder?) I experienced brain pain a few times, but nothing I can't handle.

If they noticed that I snacked pretty much constantly throughout the day, at least they didn't say anything about it.

Bucky worked quietly on the sidelines, and gave his pages directly to DeSilva just before we checked in with her. DeSilva didn't bring anything in those pages into our analysis. I assume she reviewed them on her own and drew her own conclusions.

Bucky made me leave at 1. I didn't argue, I was eager to go home with him...

Went home, had more food, tackled Bucky and dragged him off to the bedroom. He didn't object, and he didn't object when, after sex (and a long nap), I spent some time just touching him all over. His body fascinates me, and not just the arm. At one point, I asked his permission to leave a mark on him, and he smirked and said, "Go ahead." I pressed my teeth against his collarbone hard enough to bruise him. I drew back and watched as the faint reddish welt turned purple and then brown and disappeared; it was like watching a wound heal a hundred times faster than it should have. I tried several times, with the same result. After a few more minutes, I noticed that he was hard again. I smiled at him. He shrugged, blushing.

I mounted him and shifted my hips slowly, trying to make it last as long as possible. I succeeded, too, because we were surprised by the sound of the front door opening. Joe was home.

Jokes on Scrabble night aside, we've gotten into the habit of mostly having sex during the day when he's not here, because Bucky is still a little shy about it.

I whispered, "We've got about two minutes before he comes down here to his room to change."

Bucky bit his lip and closed his eyes, and I began moving against him as fast as I could, a little harder than before. I didn't account for intensity, though. I had stretched the sex out and made us wait for so long that we were already on the cusp of orgasm, and it hit us both like a freight train; Bucky arched up from the bed and I threw my head back, and we both groaned so loudly that we might as well have shouted.

I collapsed forward on Bucky's chest, panting for breath, and gasped, "Well, that was inconspicuous."

He covered his face with his hands.

We heard Joe's door open and shut. I could swear that there was a smugness in the sound.

What with one thing and another, we still hadn't gone to buy paint and furniture for the baby's room. Bucky fled the apartment before Joe came out of his room, and Joe and I went shopping.

"So," he said while I flipped through paint color panels, feeling completely mystified by the process, "What inspired our very favorite soldier to do a fuck-and-duck this afternoon?"

I tried not to smile, and failed. "He's still shy about having you involved in our sex life. Okay, what is the difference between 'dandelion down' and 'lemon creme'? They're both just yellow."

"'Lemon creme' is more delicate. That boy is repressed as fuck."

"Hey, he was born in 1917. Give him a break." I held up another strip. "'Pea soup'? Who named these?"

"Are you going to find out the sex?" Joe asked.

I blinked at him for a moment before I figured it out. "Oh. The sex of the baby? I guess so."

"Well, if you want to wait and decide on pink or blue later..."

"I like blue. Why can't a baby girl have blue walls?"

Joe shrugged amicably. "No reason in the world. Which blue do you want?" He held up an array of ten strips like a hand of cards.

I made a face at him. "I want a blue that looks like... blue?"

He shook his head with an infinitude of weariness. "Fine. We'll go with... 'robin's egg' or 'summer storm' if you want more gray in it."

"'Summer storm'," I said firmly, thinking of Bucky's eyes.

"Great. Now let's find a color for the trim."

"What's a trim?"

"You are absolutely and utterly hopeless at this, Jessie."

"Then why did you bring me?"

He just looked at me for a moment, and then went back to browsing what appeared to be several rows of... different colors of white. Sorry, not white, 'eggshell' or 'unicorn spooge' or whatever the fuck they were called.

Throwing up when I got home almost felt justified.


	31. Chapter 31

Thursday, May 1st, 2014

Bucky didn't return to sleep with me last night, and I couldn't help but suspect he was avoiding Joe.

He did share breakfast with me after my run this morning, though. I'm up to three miles, which isn't too impressive considering my old routine of six (ten on weekends), but it's not bad considering all of the placenta-generating I'm presumably doing. Privately I'm wondering if I can reach the point where I outrun Bucky. That's probably a pipe dream.

Work went fairly smoothly. The others are getting accustomed to Bucky's quiet, scribbling presence. Samuel is talking more. Yumiko found a thread of expenditures that led from Hydra to several large banks in the nearby area, and I'm thinking that's going to be a _very_ interesting conversation between DeSilva and Fury. That was the first time I've seen Yumiko smile; puzzle-solving seems to drive her. I'm the same way, so I felt more warmly toward her than I had ever felt.

I might actually reach the achievement of making a female friend. It could happen.

The job isn't strenuous, but I was strangely exhausted by the end of the day, and I wonder how much of it is the pregnancy. I've been mooching around the house for so long that I didn't realize how fatigued I am in general. Making it to the 3pm meeting was a real struggle. DeSilva took me aside this afternoon and reiterated to me that I was to go home when I felt sick, and I reassured her that I was just tired. I had a two-hour nap when I got home, in Bucky's arms.

Bucky seemed resigned to encountering Joe that evening, but Joe didn't make it home until late. I guess that things have improved with Lawrence. So instead of submitting ourselves to Joe's sly ribbing, Bucky and I decided to have a look at the baby's room.

It's a three-bedroom apartment, owing sheerly to Joe's foresight. I'm really not sure why we're allowed to paint the walls, but I'm guessing that Joe worked something out with SHIELD considering we're renting through them. So Joe has one bedroom, I have the other, but the third we've just kept shut up, waiting for the baby. Walking in there, I felt a little nervous. It was like I was entering a church or a library or some other hallowed space where I didn't feel particularly welcome at first. Plus there's always something a little eerie about an empty room. The only objects were a few buckets of new paint.

I indicated the buckets to Bucky. "I decided to paint it blue."

"I don't know whether that means girl or boy," he said.

"It means I don't give a fuck and I like blue," I said pleasantly.

"Blue sounds fantastic." Bucky has learned diplomacy at some point.

"We could do some painting this weekend. We even have paint for the, uh, trim," I said, pointing at the single bucket of (dare I call it) white.

"What's a trim?"

"I asked Joe the same question and he wouldn't tell me! He just started grumbling under his breath." I went to the center of the room and sat down on the carpet. "Come here, sit with me."

Bucky sat down beside me and put one hand on my knee. "What is it?"

"Do we want the crib under the window or not?"

"Depends. That window faces east, so it will get strong light in the morning."

I squinted. "Maybe that's not such a good thing. We could put it against that wall... that way it's almost the first thing you come upon when you stumble into the room in the middle of the night, groggy as hell and looking for a crying baby."

"Smart. What else do we need in here?"

"Well, shelves could go over there... we'll need a changing table..."

We sat and mentally decorated the room together. It seemed strange to me that Bucky would sit quietly and engage in something as simple as this, someone who had been through war and destruction and brain trauma and countless murders... and then I decided that this was probably the opposite of all of that, and perhaps he welcomed it.

He certainly took it very seriously. We ended up having a slight argument about where to put the changing table, and at a certain point, I caught the light in his eyes and he caught the light in mine, and I wrestled him to the floor, where he promptly flipped me over and covered my body with his, smiling wickedly before kissing me.

"We can't do this in here," I whispered. "Waaaay too weird."

"I don't see why not, doing this is how we ended up here in the first place." He bit my neck gently.

"Joe will be home soon," I said impishly.

"Right. Bedroom."

We had sex, but there was something a little different about it from our usual bombastic good time. This felt somehow comforting, mundane, perhaps a little... I guess normal is the best word for it. It felt like waking up on a Sunday morning together on an ordinary day and reaching for each other for one quickie, just before coffee. I liked it, though. I think he did, too. I think Bucky needs some normal and mundane in his life.


	32. Chapter 32

Friday, May 2nd, 2014

Bucky stayed over last night, and I think we've reached some kind of a break in his sleep issues, because for some reason he slept a full eight hours again, and I woke up before he did. I turned in his arms and kissed him awake. He smiled before he opened his eyes.

Former me would be completely disgusted with my current self and this entire relationship. I mean, seriously. Bucky and I are _nauseating_.

Work from 9 to 3, Bucky watching protectively from the corner the whole time. Train found a thread of data linking the research that Dr. Manscolm's daughter was working on to an old retired project of Howard Stark's. Interesting stuff, but it's very difficult to tell what the original project really was. The problem is that while we de-encrypted the files en masse and released them, there are still the distinct encryption protocols that individuals placed on their own files. Those can't be disabled with a single command from the central database. And as far as I can tell, Stark encrypted everything he ever did. Whit told me that Tony Stark knows most of his father's de-encryption algorithms, but keeps them stored elsewhere. I'm dubious about whether he'll give them to us just because we're curious.

I was exhausted by the end of the work day, and we still had to go see Dr. Manscolm. As soon as we walked in the door, the doctor took one look at me, then at Bucky, and said, "We'll keep it short today."

As we sat down, Bucky said tensely, "How close are you?"

"I'm going to guess that you are referring to Nimrod."

"Nimrod?" I said.

"NMRD, the Neuronal Mapping Restoration Device. I decided it was time to name her."

"So you're making progress," I said.

"Largely thanks to you," Dr. Manscolm said, his eyes intent on me. "Your team's work organizing my daughter's data archives and linking them to other data has been enormously beneficial. We may have a prototype within days rather than weeks."

I smiled at him. "They'll be glad to hear it."

"Until you strap one of them into it," said Bucky grimly.

"Bucky, the comfort and safety of the test subject has been one of our top priorities, believe it or not," said Dr. Manscolm.

"But not foremost."

"Well, no. If the machine doesn't actually work to restore the neuronal map, then there's no reason for it to exist at all, so that part is paramount. But I can assure you of one thing: I possess a great deal more concern for my test subjects than Hydra ever did." Dr. Manscolm reached for a notepad and began to write something down. "Bucky, since you're here, I wonder if you might let me question you a bit?"

Bucky hesitated, and then shrugged.

"Excellent. How have you been sleeping?"

Bucky glanced at me and I saw a little heat flare in his cheeks. "Better than before."

"Glad to hear it. Eating?"

"Fine."

Dr. Manscolm put down his pen and looked at Bucky searchingly. "I understand that Director Fury has you recording your mission history. How is that going?"

"Fine."

"No flashbacks?"

"Not so far." Bucky straightened a little. "Should I expect them?"

"Let's hope not. I'm only concerned that the act of writing will clarify more of your memory, which could inspire some retraumatization." He seemed to read something in Bucky's eyes. "I won't question you any further about it, but I'd like you to stay alert for any recurrences of old trauma resurfacing; feelings that you are trapped, or being hurt or forced to hurt others."

"I'll keep an eye on me," said Bucky drily.

"And you, Jessie, how have you been this week?"

"Um... overly emotional, too hungry, nauseated, exhausted, and horny all the time."

Bucky coughed into his fist and Dr. Manscolm smiled. "Sounds like you might be pregnant."

"Sounds like," I agreed wearily. "And I think I need a nap."

"Then we'll wrap up for today. By this time next week, I may have more exciting news for both of you."

"Yay," said Bucky flatly.

We went home and I called Steve to ask whether he wanted to come help paint the baby's room tomorrow. With four of us, I reasoned it would go very quickly.

Then Bucky dragged me off to bed. (For my nap.)

Afterward, he left, and Joe and I did something unpleasant and necessary... we went to the mall and bought me a new wardrobe that consisted of an alarming amount of stretch material and elastic waistbands. No maternity clothing just yet, but definitely different stuff from what I would have worn formerly. Actually, I never paid that much attention to clothes. My uniforms suited me well enough. So it fell to Joe to ensure that the things we picked out were actually somewhat flattering. I trust his judgment.

I felt depressed when we got home, though. It's not a pleasant thing to feel completely out of control of the shape of your own body. I used to take it for granted.


	33. Chapter 33

Saturday May 3rd, 2014

I woke up late last night because Bucky wasn't there, and I spent the rest of the night curled up with my face buried in his pillow, breathing in the smell of his hair. When I got up this morning, I decided to skip my run. I felt a little dizzy.

Painting the baby's room today was a hilarious... I want to call it a fiasco, but I can't really, because the baby's room _did_ at least get painted. But I'm going to think twice before I have all four of us (Steve, Bucky, Joe and myself) engage in another group project.

First of all, Joe decided he was in charge, which seemed to startle Steve a little bit, but he seemed willing to defer to Joe since painting isn't quite Steve's area of expertise (unlike saving the world).

Second of all, I was a little bit ill and dizzy and kept having to sit down, so I wasn't terribly useful. Nobody gave me any crap about it, but I felt bad.

Third of all, Bucky and Steve are very in tune with each other. They are synched up to the point where they even do the same things wrong at the same time, which was where most of the fun happened. Joe would give a (to his thinking) simple instruction, Steve and Bucky would invariably misinterpret it--but they would misinterpret it the same _way_ , mysteriously enough--resulting in us having to repaint several areas of the room.

Steve and Bucky differed in one area: precision. Where Steve stayed within the lines mostly, Bucky was constantly flecking paint against the ceiling, the old sheets covering the carpet, himself, and the rest of us. I could hardly blame him, I was bad at the precision aspect myself and once nearly spilled an entire bucket of paint before Bucky caught it with his uncanny reflexes. Joe, of course, painted everything he touched to perfection without spilling a single drop. Bucky ended up getting so much paint on his metal arm that he had to pour paint thinner over it several times in the evening, and he still smells faintly volatile.

And then you have the relationship matrix, which was complex enough to confuse even me.

Steve and Bucky could work together smoothly and with barely any conversation. Steve had no problem following Joe's orders, but he didn't quite follow Joe's quick flights of metaphor and slang, and so misunderstood said orders a lot. I understood Joe's orders perfectly, but was absolutely helpless at accomplishing them (my eye-hand coordination is not the best), so Joe was basically constantly irritated at all of us, which Bucky and I made much, much worse by finding it irrepressibly funny, at which point Steve would detect what was going on and turn a stern eye upon us as well, which only made us worse. And then there's the fact that Bucky and I can't work around each other without teasing each other sexually (small touches, smiles, brushing up against each other), which at one point caused Joe to caustically remark, "The fucking hormones in this room stink worse than the paint." Steve just occasionally gave Bucky a swat on the shoulder as though to say _Pay attention!_ though he ignored my own infractions. I've noticed that for some reason, Steve never chides or criticizes me for anything. According to the notebook, he never really has.

But for all these considerable difficulties, we did finally get the damn room painted, and I was pleased to see that it did match Bucky's eyes.


	34. Chapter 34

Sunday, May 4th, 2014

I woke up late; it was nearly 10. I didn't run again today, still feeling a little off. I hope this isn't the end of my career as a marathoning incubator.

Bucky didn't stay over again last night, and I'm trying not to pout about it, but I miss him when he's not here, even though he's probably just outside. I think I sleep better next to him.

I moped my way through the morning, feeling sorry for myself and not paying attention to much. I did another crossword puzzle and wondered where Bucky was.

And then I realized I should be wondering where Joe was, but I decided he was probably with Lawrence... until I heard the door of the baby's room opening and steps coming down the hallway.

"Well, now, don't we look glum today!"

I smiled at Joe. "Yeah, sorry. I think I'm bored. Or maybe overdosed on paint fumes."

"I have something that might cheer you up."

"What is it?"

"Follow me, darling."

I followed Joe back to the baby's room and stepped inside.

He had been working on the walls. Now, in addition to the paint and trim, there were patterns on the walls, high, near the ceiling; fish and other sea creatures, turtles, octopi, and waving plants, all in green and rose and pink and white and yellow. They engirded the entire room and they were really pretty. I didn't realize my mouth was hanging open until I'd spun around twice, looking at them.

I turned to Joe, who was smiling broadly at me. "Wow, Joe, this is _amazing_! I love it!"

"I knew you would. Remember when you were a kid and you wanted to be a marine biologist?"

"Good god, how did you remember that?"

"How could I forget it? You were five years old and had a stuffed dolphin and a toy stethoscope, and it was the world's most adorable picture watching you diagnose that dolphin with everything from rabies to the common cold." He pulled me into a tight hug. "I love you. Don't you ever forget it."

"I love you back," I said, my eyes filling with tears, whatever.

"I'm glad that you're finally getting into the baby thing a little bit."

"I'm just glad I have so much help," I said softly. "I would be terrified if I were on my own."

"You, my dear, are _never_ going to be on your own. Even if you fly this particular nest, Bucky will never let you get far... will you, Bucky boy?"

A faint voice from outside said, "Would you please stop that?"

"Just come inside if you're going to watch us," called Joe.

I went to get the door for Bucky, and brought him inside to show him the new wall border (Joe told me that's what it's called). Bucky smiled, slowly turning to take it all in. He looked at Joe. "That's really nice work. I like it."

Joe, to my shock, actually blushed.

Later, he left to go wherever it is he goes (Lawrence again) and Bucky and I spent some time cuddling and talking. I feel like the whole getting-to-know-each-other thing is going much better than it went in the notebook. Then we both fell asleep for several hours.

He woke up before I did, and I woke to him kissing my forehead gently. Before I was entirely awake, I mumbled, "I love you so much, Bucky."

He froze.

I blinked myself awake. "What?" I said, still not entirely aware. Bucky was staring at me with wide eyes. I shook my head to clear it, and then it hit me. "Oh."

"You... what?"

I laughed. "I love you, you idiot."

"Can you maybe say it without the idiot part?"

"I love you."

"Say it again."

"Oh for chrissakes, Bucky."

He smiled and pulled me into a fierce kiss, his arms holding me close, muscle and steel. Only one embrace in the world feels like that.

I waited for our lips to part, and I told him that I loved him again. He deserved to hear it.

He buried his face in my neck, and I thought he would start nibbling a line down to my shoulders like he usually does, but he didn't; he just stayed there, hiding his face. After a while, I felt him shaking slightly. "Bucky?"

He shook his head.

I felt moisture on my neck, and I realized that he was crying.

"Oh god, sweetheart..." Bear in mind I have never called anybody 'sweetheart' in my life, but somehow, I needed to say something sweet and loving to him, and that's what came to mind. I stroked his hair and rubbed his shoulders and whispered more sweet names to him, telling him that I loved him again and again.

He finally pulled away, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his sleeve self-consciously. "Sorry, I'm not sure what came over me."

"I think I have some idea of what it was," I said. I touched his cheek with my hand. "You've been waiting for a little while to hear me say that again."

"Yeah, I guess I have." He kissed the palm of my hand.

We undressed each other slowly and made love as though it were the first time, almost hesitant with each other, testing the waters, never breaking eye contact. It was shockingly intimate, somehow. I felt more naked than I've ever felt in my life. I held his cock in my hand as it hardened, and I thought about the baby we had made as I invited him inside me.

Oh, yeah. We're definitely completely disgusting. It's almost a relief that we can't go out in public together.


	35. Chapter 35

Monday, May 5th, 2014

I was really tired and dizzy this morning and threw up twice. That should have been a warning, maybe.

It was doctor day, so no work fortunately. Dr. Javier did the usual stuff, the baby is fine, Bucky read more of the pamphlets and is even starting to become interested in the process. He still turns a little bit green at the idea of actual childbirth, but then, so do I.

Dr. Nami gave me a set of visual tests that were kind of fun, but which played havoc with my dizziness.

Then there was Dr. Manscolm, who I could tell was excited the moment we stepped into his office.

He welcomed us in and said, "I have some news. Nimrod has reached the point where we're beginning actual construction on the device. Bucky, we'll be needing your specialized skills very soon."

Bucky frowned. "I'm not so sure about this request of yours that I protect the machine. I can't protect both it and Jessie too."

Dr. Manscolm nodded. "I would only ask that you stand guard while she's at SHIELD headquarters, working. There's no safer place for her than there, and you would be on the premises if she needed you."

"Then you'll only be able to work on it during office hours," I pointed out. "And only until 3."

"Oh, I don't need Bucky's help while I'm there working on the machine. I need his help when I'm not there. Weekday hours from 9 to 3 work just fine."

I blinked. "You work on the machine all evening and all night, every day?"

Dr. Manscolm nodded. "As I told you before, we're running a race with Hydra. I intend to win it." He didn't look the least bit tired to me, and I was beginning to feel like a total slacker around all of these apparent supermen.

"So what specifically do you need me to do?" asked Bucky.

I tuned out a bit while Dr. Manscolm gave Bucky his orders, because I was feeling incredibly sick. I put my forehead in my hands and leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees.

"What's wrong?" I felt Bucky's hand on my shoulder.

"I need food, I think," I whispered.

"Come here and lie down," said Dr. Manscolm, now standing above me. I looked up and he was gesturing at the couch along the side of the room. I let them guide me to it.

That's when the first wave of cramps hit me. I doubled up, groaning. "Fuck!"

"What is it?" Bucky's voice was frantic.

"I'm cramping, hard," I gasped. The wave passed and I started to breathe again. I looked at Dr. Manscolm in terror. "What's happening?"

"We need to get her to the obgyn wing," said Dr. Manscolm. "Can you carry her?"

Bucky snorted derisively and picked me up as though I were a featherweight, cradling me carefully in his arms. He walked so quickly with me that the doctor had to jog to keep up with us. I was grateful we were already in the hospital. We went straight to Dr. Javier's office and burst through the doors, Dr. Manscolm trotting ahead of us and panting out instructions for the startled desk attendant, Bucky taking long strides with me in his arms, his face stony, which told me that he was afraid.

They took us back to an examination room and Dr. Javier swept in on a tide of cheer and goodwill, as he always does. He ushered Dr. Manscolm out of the room, took one look at Bucky and said, "You just sit there on that stool and hold her hand and say sweet things, and if you interfere I'll be kicking you right out of the room! Now just relax, Jessie, let's take a look..." Bucky sat with a concerned look as Dr. Javier and his nurse helped me change; I was cramping again and it was hard to stand, much less get my pants off.

When I was able to lay down on the table, Bucky immediately took my hand and leaned over me. "Just look at me, okay?" I nodded.

"It's just a cramp..." I was desperately trying not to think too hard.

"That's right," he said, "Just a cramp. Nothing to worry about."

I felt a hard pressure on my abdomen and yelped. "Yes, I know that's uncomfortable, but we'll be done in just a moment," Dr. Javier said. "Light spotting," he said to the nurse.

I felt tears rise in my eyes and tried to blink them away.

"Jess, I want you to think about the big teddy bear," said Bucky, his voice soft and low.

That was bizarre. I couldn't tell if I felt like smiling. "Bruno?"

"Yes, the one that viciously attacked me."

I couldn't help but smile, even in pain. "Oh, you can take care of yourself."

"Just think if he'd had a friend, though!"

I nearly laughed and the cramp intensified. I squeezed Bucky's hand. "Don't make me laugh."

He kissed my hand. "Just relax."

"Tell me it's going to be okay," I begged.

"It's going to be okay," he promised.

* * *

Okay, Bucky just told me to stop writing so we can go to sleep, so I have to skip a little of the medical drama and wrap this up.

The baby is okay. Its heartbeat is still there.

It was a combination of things, as it turns out. Cramps are pretty normal, though these were a little extreme... but the real pain was most likely from a urinary tract infection that's threatening to spread to my kidneys. I've been peeing every half hour for so long now that I completely missed the symptoms. So Dr. Javier put me on antibiotics and some of those weird little pills that turn your pee orange, and we were given a lecture that amounted to the following:

\- I need to stop running and any other heavy exertion until at least the end of first trimester (that's at least another two weeks), and even after that, walking is preferable  
\- I must take it easy for a few days, just in case the cramps are a sign of something worse  
\- No work for about a week (dammit)  
\- No sex for about a week (sniffle)  
\- No oral sex for a very long while (sob), because that's the most likely cause of the infection  
\- Lots of fluids, which means I'll be peeing EVEN MORE  
\- Try to avoid stressors (for instance, the fact that I can't run, can't work, can't have sex... stuff like that)

Another stressor I'll have to avoid: being strapped into a machine that messes with your memories. I can't participate in Dr. Manscolm's project, and I have no idea what we're going to do now.

Bucky has suggested that we avoid all sex until the pregnancy comes to term. I nearly punched him in the nuts.


	36. Chapter 36

Tuesday, May 6th, 2014

Well, this is going to suck.

Dr. Manscolm postponed the construction of Nimrod. Bucky's not going to leave my side any time soon, and I can't work. We've also established that I'm probably not going to be able to watch when they finally do operate it, because it will undoubtedly be distressing and I'm to be protected from all manner of distress for the time being. I just broke the tip of my pencil because I was bearing down on the paper so hard. Nobody seems to agree with me that being kept away from the experiment is just as distressing to me.

Meanwhile, ironically enough, Bucky isn't here because we learned very quickly last night that sleeping in the same bed with no sex also means no sleep as we lay there and desperately try not to tease each other. It was like a game. Can we kiss? How much can we kiss? Can I give you a back rub? How low a back rub? Can we spoon? Is that another knife in your underwear or are you just happy to see me? Etc.

So he's either going to be at Steve's tonight, or else out and about watching my apartment. Most likely the latter.

I'm laying on the couch and munching on strawberries and trying my damnedest to do what Dr. Manscolm and I talked about weeks ago; remembering things on my own by circuitous methods. So far I haven't found anything that works.

Being alone and trapped after days of activity and usefulness is maddening. I actually feel like I might be going insane. Everything that's happening has me frustrated and restless and I'm still in pain. When Joe got home from work, he and I started bickering until he abruptly interrupted the argument with, "You, darling, are being a grizzly bear because you're confined and inhibited. I want you to take three deep breaths and calm the fuck down, and then write in your journal."

So I'm writing in my fucking journal. After this, I guess I'll do another fucking crossword puzzle.

Every single bit of progress I've made was just stolen from me, and I still feel dizzy and ill.

And while I'm definitely feeling sorry for myself, I'm also terrified for the baby. Terrified enough that it's actually hard to write about it. At some point along this process, it has stopped being a mysterious force in my body, and started being a person... an incredibly important person. If I lose it, something inside me will be destroyed, somehow. How did I get so attached? How did that happen to someone like me?

And what would it do to Bucky if we lost the baby?

He might never be reachable again.


	37. Chapter 37

Wednesday, May 7th, 2014

I insisted that I be allowed to go to group today. I didn't want to go any more than I ever want to go, but it was a way to get away from myself and the apartment. Joe made me call Dr. Javier first to make sure that it was okay.

So I went to group, and exploded.

I think everybody in group had gotten used to my never speaking, or else never saying much. But the counselor introduced today's topic and it was on dealing with anger. Several people spoke up about feeling angry, but not _very_ angry, and not _right now_. So I cleared my throat and said, "I'm feeling some anger right now. A lot of anger."

I felt everybody staring at me. I realized that after the last few weeks, they probably thought I had severe enough brain damage to not be able to talk. I said, "I lost almost everything that ever mattered to me when my memory was taken away. I lost my work, that I had trained for my whole life. I lost my first year with my boyfriend. I've had to relearn that relationship from the ground up, and I can see in his eyes sometimes still that I'm not who I was, and he misses me. Her. The woman I used to be. I lost the conception of my child. I woke up pregnant one day a month ago, with no idea how it happened and how to feel about it. And now I know that I can never work again as I used to, and I know that I will never get those memories back. There was a chance, but that chance was just taken away. And the worst of it is..." I felt my throat catch, and forged ahead anyway. "... I did it to myself. I damaged my own brain deliberately. I did it to protect what matters the most to me, but when I did that, I lost it anyway, and I did it _on purpose_. This is all my own fault. And I'm. I'm." My eyes were swimming in hot tears. "I'm so angry at myself that I want to hurt myself. I want to beat my head against the wall and scream sometimes. I want to scratch and tear at myself." I was gasping now, and I stopped for a second. "I won't do it, because I won't harm the baby. But when the baby is born... I have to... I have to find some way to forgive myself before that happens. Or I'll kill myself once my baby is out."

After it all spilled out of me, I felt absolutely horrified that I had revealed so much, and even more horrified at what I had revealed. I felt kind of raw and stripped, like my feelings were naked and it was too cold for nudity. I had no idea that I'm so enraged at myself.

I almost hate myself.

No, I _do_ hate myself. I didn't know that. But I do. I hate this broken, weepy, ineffectual woman with all my withered, blackened heart. I hate her. I can feel my pulse rising just thinking about it, and it frightens me how red with rage I am. I've been covering it up with sex and activity and focusing on Bucky and the baby, but once all that was taken away, there it was, painfully obvious. I hate me.

They all listened to me, and I saw on their faces some of the agony that I always feel when they are the ones talking. But there was also compassion in their eyes, and in some of those eyes I saw a reflection of my feelings. Maybe they weren't responsible for their own memory loss, but they hate the person they are now. They know how it feels to be trapped inside yourself and desperate to get out somehow.

And I realized that's why I'm in there. I'm there to learn how they are surviving that, because if I don't figure it out, I will kill myself.

I was crying after my big spiel, and someone handed me a box of tissues and I felt hands on my shoulders and soft voices saying, "Thank you for sharing that with us. I'm so sorry. I know how you feel. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." None of them really understand what I confessed to, I think. They think it's misplaced guilt. It doesn't matter. They still know what it feels like to blame yourself.

I didn't realize that they understood that.

I get it, now.

The counselor, Warren, asked me some very serious questions afterward about whether I am going to hurt myself, and I said honestly that I wouldn't do anything to hurt the baby, but I was scared about what would happen in the future. He asked me if I wanted to hospitalize myself until the baby is born.

I don't want that, I don't think. I can feel the safety of it, those white walls keeping me from having to think or feel any of the things that exist outside. But something in me rebels against it.

Warren just said, "Think about it. And I want you to call 9-1-1 if you think you may hurt yourself. Can you promise me that you will do that?"

"Yeah," I said wearily. "I... don't think that I want to die."

"Good. We don't want you to die either."

I'm sitting here now with all these new thoughts whirling around in my head, and I feel drained, but cleaner somehow. My head is clearer and I'm seeing things I didn't before.

Like how Bucky and I have more in common than we did before this happened to me.

He hates himself. I feel it instinctively. He loathes what Hydra turned him into, and is desperate to become something else, desperate to make some kind of reparation. That's why he's so willing to write out a confession of everything bad he's done. He doesn't really care what happens to him, because he hates himself and truly believes that he deserves whatever punishment they will mete out to him.

And when I think about that, my feelings toward him are soft and gentle and forgiving and so merciful, because I know, I profoundly _know_ , how he would never have done those things on purpose, and how the person that he is, is different from the person he hates.

In this moment, I love him so much that it hurts. And I wish so hard that I could fix it.

Bucky killed people. _He killed people._ How can I forgive him so readily, and see what's lovable about him so easily, when I can't do it for myself?

Let me try an experiment.

Dear Jessie from the notebook,

I know that when you vaulted yourself, you were terrified. You were terrified that people you loved were going to die or be taken from you, that awful things would happen to them. You knew that you yourself might die. You were alone. You had no way to protect or defend yourself, and you didn't have a lot of time, so you did the only thing you could think of. You hurt yourself, but you didn't do it without reason. You did what you felt you had to do.

I'm sorry that I've been so angry at you.

I'm sorry that I've blamed you for all of my unhappiness.

I may not always love you, but you're the only me I've got, and I don't want anything bad to happen to you. So from now on, I'm going to do what I can to help you.

I think I love Bucky as much as you do, now. Knowing that, feeling that, I understand why you did it.

Let's start over again, and I'll try to be kinder to you.

Sincerely,  
Yourself.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here is where my plot begins to overlap with the events in Civil War, and that's where I start to get very nervous, because I made a lot of changes to this 'verse. Events are not going to pan out the same way. Also, please be aware that there are about to be spoilers, if you haven't seen the film yet.
> 
> Some things to keep in mind:
> 
> \- In this AU, Bucky hasn't had several years to himself to recall his memories. They're slowly coming back, but it's still 2014, not 2016.
> 
> \- In this AU, Bucky never faced Steve on the helicarrier, he never went off on his own, he didn't have only his own mind to rely on for memory recovery, and he never spent years as a fugitive. Instead, he had Steve and Jessie's love and support while he was recovering from what Hydra did to him. So he's a very different character from who he is in Civil War, far less defensive and damaged. My characterization of him is no criticism of the film; he's just had a completely different experience here.
> 
> \- In this AU, Steve never discovered Zola's mainframe, so he never found out that Howard Stark was assassinated; hence he never made the connection that Bucky was responsible. This will be important later on.

Thursday, May 8th, 2014

This morning, I woke up feeling very calm. And I didn't throw up, for a change. That actually concerns me a little. I ate breakfast, and I chatted with Joe about what he had planned for his day, and we decided to go and look at furniture for the baby's room next week, when I'm feeling better. I finally told him that I don't think it's a good idea for Bucky to be seen out in public very much given what Fury told me. Joe went a little pale when he heard that, and agreed.

After he left, I went to the window and opened it to the May breeze, and I said softly, "Bucky." And I closed my eyes.

I didn't hear his step in the hallway, and I didn't hear the door open, but that's to be expected with him. Instead, after a short while, I heard his voice just behind my ear and felt his hands fall lightly on my shoulders. "Jess. Is anything wrong?"

I leaned back against him. "Do you have more writing to do today?"

"Yes." His voice was heavy.

"Can you do it here?"

He paused and I could feel his reluctance. "What will you do while I'm working?"

"I don't know. I just know that I don't want you doing it by yourself. Because you may not want to tell me everything you've done, but that doesn't mean you have to live with it alone." Listen to me, all group-therapy-ish.

He gently pushed my hair to the side and kissed the back of my neck. "I'm afraid there's more to write than I thought. The memories... there are still more of them coming back every day. It's all even worse than I thought it was."

"I thought you had already remembered most of it."

"Apparently not. Just... please don't ask me what I'm writing about."

I breathed him in. "I won't ask you what you're writing about. But if you decide to tell me anything at all, I'll listen, and I'll still love you when you're done."

He shivered. "You can't promise that." I heard hope in his voice.

"I can do anything I damn well please."

He chuckled. "Fine. I left my notes at Steve's, so I'll be right back."

"I'll be here, relaxing and probably eating everything in the refrigerator."

"Good girl."

When he got back, I was doing another crossword puzzle. I found myself doing something strange; writing random words into the squares and trying to make them connect rather than paying attention to the clues. I began to let letters extend past the margins of the puzzle grid. I didn't pay much attention to what I was writing. Something about it was soothing. Some of the words I wrote down didn't make any sense, like "SEMOCTATE" and "HYDROPHAGE".

Bucky sat at the dining room table and got to work. Within minutes, his shoulders were hunched tightly and his forehead was furrowed. He frequently ran his fingers through his hair. Sometimes he sat in silence and clenched his fists.

"Bucky," I said softly.

"Hmm?" He looked up at me, his eyes distracted.

"Do you know what retro-oxidasic means?"

"No idea. Where did you see it?"

"I just... wrote it down for some reason."

He tilted his head. "Is... does that mean your memory is coming back?"

I looked at the randomly scrawled words on my puzzle. "If it is, it's not in any meaningful way. What about 'steroidogenesis'?"

He stared at me for a moment, and then his eyes were suddenly far away. "There was..."

I waited for him to say more. "Yeah? There was what?"

"There were more." His voice was faint and remote.

"More what?"

Bucky suddenly stood up, pushing his chair back, his eyes widening. "There were more." His eyes focused on me. "Holy shit. Jess, there were more of us."

I sat up. "More... super soldiers?"

His eyes were wide with fear. "In Siberia. How did I not remember?"

"Where are they now?" I asked.

Bucky gazed at me with lost eyes for a moment, and then suddenly his eyebrows lowered and his eyes darkened and he was looking at something me but not me, something inside of his own mind it seemed. Anger flared in his eyes. No, not anger, rage. Burning rage.

"Bucky?"

"They never stopped trying."

"Trying what?"

His furious eyes focused on me again. "I need to know where Nick Fury is, _now_."

I was tempted to argue to make him tell me exactly what was going on, but something in his eyes stopped me. He wasn't just angry, he was afraid. This was serious shit. I called Nick Fury and said, "Um... Bucky says you need to come by."

"Did he say why?"

"Not exactly, but it's an emergency."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."

I hung up the phone and realized that Bucky was looking at me with consternation. He said, "We don't have to meet here. I should meet up with him somewhere else."

"Why, so that you can talk about Hydra without my listening in?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "You do realize that I just remembered something, don't you?" I held up the crossword puzzle, which was now a scrawl of random scientific-sounding words.

Bucky picked it up and examined it closely. "This is about the serum. Stark's serum."

"Tony Stark?"

"No, I don't... no. Wait." He pressed the heel of his right hand to his forehead. "I can almost remember. It's there, it's just... I can _almost_ get to it." He looked at the puzzle again, his eyes scanning the words. "If this is inside your head..." He looked at me. "Were you ever used to remember chemical formulas?"

"Absolutely." I felt myself go pale. "Are you saying that I have the formula for building a super soldier in my mind?"

"You have at least part of it. Steroidogenesis... it was Howard. Howard Stark, not Tony. It was Tony's father." His eyes widened. "Oh, no."

I stood up. "Bucky?"

" _No._ "

"What is it? What's happening?"

He stared into space with a look of horror, and I instinctively pressed my hands protectively over my belly.

"Bucky..."

"I'm not going to tell you this," he said abruptly. His face was as white as a sheet.

Absolutely unacceptable. "If it endangers me or the baby, I have a right to know. I _need_ to know. What is it?"

"Jess." He kept looking sicker and sicker. "I can't."

"Bucky, sit down. You look like you're about to fall." I helped him to the couch and sat him down. He let me man-handle him; he was as shaky as a newborn colt. I felt a frantic need to find out what he knew. "Am I in danger?"

"No. Maybe. I don't know."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

At that moment, there was a firm knock on the door. I rushed to open it for Fury, who stepped inside, took one look at Bucky, and dialed a number on his phone. "We need you, location 2. Now." He hung up.

"Who was that?" I asked. I was starting to feel a little wild about all the spy bullshit flying around my apartment.

And for a wonder, Fury actually told me. "Captain Rogers is on his way."

"Do we need him?" I asked worriedly.

"I don't want him involved," said Bucky hoarsely. He wasn't looking at Fury or me, he was staring straight ahead.

"I don't want any of us involved," said Fury, "But life doesn't always work out the way we want it to. Care to tell me why I've been summoned?"

I waited for Bucky to say something, but he was silent. I coughed. "There's a new super soldier serum apparently, that I have the formula for, locked away inside my brain. Howard Stark developed it."

Fury paused, and looked more shaken than I had ever seen him. "Was developing. He _was_ developing it; the work wasn't complete when he died, and his samples were never found."

"Nobody continued developing it?"

"Nobody could. Howard encrypted those files so tightly that nobody's been able to crack into them. Of course that doesn't mean that nobody tried."

"Hydra," I said.

"I know where the samples went," said Bucky quietly, startling both of us. Fury and I looked down at him.

I decided to sit down; I was supposed to be resting, and since I couldn't escape the stress of this situation, I had to at least rest my body. "Where did they go?"

"Siberia."

Fury said, "You acquired them for Hydra."

"I acquired them for Hydra," Bucky repeated listlessly. "I was responsible."

"No, you weren't," Fury and I said in unison. We glanced at each other.

"Sergeant Barnes," Fury said. "The sole thing we are sure of is that you were not responsible for what you did under Hydra."

"Doesn't matter," said Bucky. "I killed them."

"Who?" I said.

He looked at me with dead eyes. "Once you know these things, you can't ever back out of them. Jess, you can't ever escape."

I took his hands in my own and said, "Bucky. It's _in my head_. There's already no escape for me."

The door burst open and Steve walked in. "What's wrong, what's going on?"

Fury stared. "Did you _fly_ here?"

"Nearly." Steve walked to the couch and sat down beside Bucky, so that he and I were bookending him. "Hey, pal. You look like you've seen a ghost."

Bucky sat in silence for a moment, and then looked at Steve and said in a calm, quiet voice, "I killed Howard and Maria Stark."

Steve's face went pale.

Everybody seemed to know the obvious but me, so I went ahead and asked the stupid question. "Does Tony Stark know they were assassinated?"

"No," said Fury. "He believes it was the collision that killed them."

A car accident. Just like my parents. My hands were still holding Bucky's, and my grip was so tight that the metal in his left hand actually creaked. I said, "What would he do if he found out?"

"That's... anybody's guess," said Fury. "But my guess is that he wouldn't be inclined to forgiveness."

I thought about my own parents and my stomach lurched. What would I do if I found out they were murdered, and I knew who had done it? I'm sure that I would want to do _something_. What would I have the power to do?

Tony Stark has the power to do a hell of a lot more than I can.

"We need a plan of action." Fury turned to Bucky. "How far did Hydra get with the serum?"

Bucky shook his head. "I can't remember. There were... there was... I can't remember. But Hydra wouldn't hesitate to experiment on a human subject. I'm sure they tried to use it."

"Can you give me the coordinates of the Hydra base in Siberia?"

"Roger," Bucky said. I didn't like the look on his face; he looked like someone had sculpted him from gray putty and his eyes were still dead. "I can remember that place."

"Then I'll go check it out," said Steve.

"Steve, I don't know much about Stark's formula, but I do know what the government wanted from him," said Fury. "They wanted soldiers stronger than you, and they wanted enhanced aggression."

"Enhanced aggression?" I asked. "Wouldn't that make them difficult to control?"

"Yes," said Bucky. "But it might be worth it." Suddenly a dull anger awoke in his eyes, and he looked up at Fury. "And SHIELD didn't hesitate for a moment. How exactly DID you plan to control them?"

"Barnes, I didn't have that kind of clearance in the early nineties," said Fury calmly. "I only know that the attempt was made. I'm sure that the answer is in the released files, but we're still sifting through hundreds of terabytes of data. It's going to take years. The upshot is that whatever might be in Siberia could very well be outside Captain Rogers' capability to neutralize."

Bucky looked at Steve. "Then I'll go with you."

I felt a sudden heat behind my eyes and in the back of my throat, and before I could stop myself, I said, "Bucky, if you go to Siberia I swear to fuck that I will follow you all the way there and kick your ass once I arrive."

They all looked at me again, and Bucky's face was conflicted. I realized that Bucky couldn't leave me again, not after what happened the first time. But Bucky couldn't let Steve go alone, either. And Steve certainly couldn't sit at home while this threat was looming over all of us. And Fury couldn't send some random task force, not without Captain America to head it up. Who else could handle a pack of super soldiers? Iron Man was obviously not an option, which meant that the other Avengers weren't, either.

It was the world's most perfect clusterfuck. A Gordian Knot of epic proportions.

Something felt wrong. "How can I possibly be holding the formula to the serum? I was still in grade school when Howard Stark died."

"Was killed," corrected Bucky. I bit my lip against more argument. Bucky continued, "The only possible way you could would be if someone was continuing his research. And if Hydra had access to the formula, they wouldn't have needed me to steal the samples. It was someone in SHIELD." He glared at Fury. "You know who it is."

Fury shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, Barnes. There's a possibility that Hydra managed to reverse-engineer the formula. That's not unreasonable after twenty years of work."

"They never managed to reverse-engineer mine, and that was with Dr. Erskine's notes and data freely available," Steve pointed out.

Suddenly my head began to swim. I closed my eyes.

Bucky said, "Jess, you need to be resting right now."

"In a minute," I said impatiently.

"In a minute you'll pass out or throw up again. Come on." He swept me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom, then laid me on the bed.

I kept my eyes closed the whole time, feeling sick, but I opened them once I was in bed. "Bucky, I need to be a part of this conversation."

He touched my hair. "You can't do everything you want right now. You have to think of more than just yourself."

"So do you," I retorted. "You're supposed to protect me. Especially now that we know what kind of information I'm holding. You can't go gallivanting off to Siberia."

He nodded soberly. "I know. We have to figure out what to do. But right now, you need to rest. Close your eyes."

I closed my eyes and clutched at his hands. "Don't leave me in here alone."

"I'm not going anywhere."

I could feel his impatience to get back out to the living room, where Steve and Fury were still talking in quiet voices, but Bucky stayed and held my hand, and after a while, he kicked off his shoes and carefully got into bed with me, spooning me protectively. I went to sleep in his arms.

I woke up later alone, and still heard voices in the living room.

I'll go out there and rejoin them in a minute, but for now I'm writing all of this down. It's helping me to sort out my own thoughts.

I haven't thrown up since Monday morning. I wish I knew whether that was a good or a bad thing.


	39. Chapter 39

Friday, May 9th, 2014

Joe broke up the convention in the living room when he got home, which was a good thing because we had been talking in circles for hours by that point. Joe insisted that I eat something, and then sent me back to bed. Bucky came with me and lay with me again until I could sleep, but he must have left some time in the night again.

I woke up this morning, and everything was clear to me suddenly. What do you do when faced with a Gordian Knot?

You slice it right through with a sword.

I could see clearly that every part of our present difficulty hinged upon a single hurdle. A motherfucking huge hurdle, but still only one: someone has to tell Tony Stark the truth about his parents.

All of our problems hinge on it. If we can just solve this one issue, everything else falls like a house of cards. If Tony Stark finds out, we're in deep shit. But if he's _told_ , there's a possibility we may all make it out of this intact. If we can reach some kind of resolution, Bucky would be safe, and Stark could help us research the formula. The full force of the Avengers could be dispatched to Siberia. It wouldn't be easy, but it was the only path I could see that led to some possibility of a good outcome.

I ate breakfast, and then I called for Bucky, and he was by my side in a moment. It was a little freaky the way he did that.

I told him what I had been thinking about.

"I should be the one to tell Stark," said Bucky.

"Uh-uh, no," I said. "Steve should be the one to tell him. It had better come from a friend."

"They won't be friends for long after that."

I thought I'd get off the topic as soon as possible. "Do you remember any more details about Siberia?"

"A little. I remember a group of soldiers. They were strong, stronger than me. More aggressive, so that much was according to plan I guess. I don't know that it was the same serum, but what else could it possibly have been? I can't remember what happened to them, either."

I touched Bucky's face, feeling distracted. My libido hasn't moved a single inch from the raving lunatic that it was a week ago, and the combination of out of control hormones and fear for the baby was putting my mind and my body at odds with each other. I wanted to cry. More than that, I desperately wanted the comfort of Bucky's body pressed against my own.

He immediately sensed what I was feeling, and smiled, pushing my hand lightly away. "No."

"It's been five days." I hated myself. I was going to be a terrible mother. Everything was awful.

"That doesn't make a week."

"I know," I said, hanging my head. "I haven't had cramps for days, and I think the infection is cleared up, but this is all just... driving me insane, and I don't have any outlet. I don't know what to do with myself. I'm so scared, and I want you, and everything is all mixed up in my mind."

"And I miss touching you." He looked at me for a moment, tenderly, and then he smiled. "Maybe we can compromise. Come with me."

Bucky poured me a bath, hot but not too hot, and I got in and he bathed me from head to foot, which nearly drove me crazy while at the same time being strangely soothing. But it was better than nothing, and it relaxed me enough to be able to sleep.

When I woke up later, he was gone. I ate something and called Nick Fury, then Steve.

Fury was reluctant to say that telling Stark was a good idea, but he admitted that he didn't have any better ones. He sounded preoccupied on the phone. We didn't speak long.

Steve, per my expectation, agreed with me that he should be the one to tell Stark.

"How do you intend to tell him?"

"I have no idea," he admitted. "But I'll be telling him someplace far away from here."

I went to see Dr. Manscolm by myself for the first time in weeks. For the first time ever since I've met him, he looked really tired. He was boundlessly frustrated by the delays on his experiments, though he tried to suppress it around me. I wasn't sure how much I should tell him about what I had remembered. Fury had said to trust him, but not how far. So he asked me distracted questions, and I gave him distracted answers, until he finally smiled at me and shook his head ruefully. "Jessie, I don't know who's worse at hiding things, you or me."

"Probably me," I said. "I never had much of a poker face. Being an EID and being able to forget things on purpose means never having to lie."

"And you feel you have to lie about something today?"

I sighed. "Maybe."

He studied me for a moment. "Well, seeing as how we won't be talking much today, how about I show you something instead?"

"Show me something?"

"Follow me."

I followed Dr. Manscolm through the maze of the hospital that I had memorized at some point without realizing it, and then down into a lower chamber that I didn't recognize at all. It reminded me a little bit of the route to BB17, and then I knew where he was taking me.

When we stepped into the room, I half expected to see rows of gleaming green circuits and lab-coated technicians surrounding mysterious, violent-looking equipment; all the memory I had of BB17 before I had vaulted myself. But the room surprised me. BB17 had felt like a dungeon with its dim green lighting and low ceiling; this room felt more like a true laboratory. It was almost all white except for silvery metal equipment, and everything was so clean that I felt grubby and out of place standing in the midst of it. There were blue tiles on the floor and there was a constant puff of cool air from vents near the ceiling. Everywhere I looked there were work tables, rows of them. Each one had its own project, all of them baffled me.

We arrived at the chair while I was still ogling the rest of the room, so I didn't even notice it until I nearly ran into it. Dr. Manscolm stopped and indicated it with a proud sweep of his hand. "The beginnings of the prototype."

I had only a vague memory of what the chair in BB17 had looked like; the few times I had seen it before Bucky, it hadn't held any special meaning for me. But I remember it being black and slung within a metal circle. This chair was white and had hard flat cushions on it, like a dentist's examination chair. There were leather cuffs on the sides, and that made me shiver a little, but other than that it didn't look uncomfortable.

At the head of the chair there was a hemisphere of metal mesh with wires protruding from it, and I guessed that was Nimrod, though it did look unfinished. My guess was confirmed when Dr. Manscolm went directly to it, picked it up and handed it to me. I took it gingerly. It was light in my hands, and almost pretty with its wires glinting in the white light of the room. I said, "You went ahead and started building without Bucky."

"We had to. There's not a moment to lose."

"When will it be ready to try?" I felt a desperate desire to try it, and handed it back to the doctor as though touching it would somehow infect me.

"Perhaps another week. Mr. Trainor is going to be our first victim, but don't let that word fool you... the worst thing that will probably happen will be that it won't work at all and he'll end up with a slight headache."

"I'm guessing trying it on a mouse first wasn't an option."

"You guess right. Even if we had the time, the mouse can't exactly report back to us what happened inside its mind." Dr. Manscolm looked at me speculatively. "You want to try it, don't you?"

I looked sideways at him. "How did you know?"

"I've come to know you fairly well, Jessie. Your ambition and drive and desire to fix problems would push you to the limits of your abilities. I wish it were a good idea."

"Me too, but the stress..."

"Well, hopefully the stress won't be too bad."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I don't know exactly what you're expecting to happen once you use that thing, but if my notebook is anything to go by, the experience was literal torture for Bucky, and torture for me to watch." I looked around the room a bit nervously, half expecting Bucky to suddenly step out of what few shadows there were. "I shouldn't be here."

Dr. Manscolm sighed, and I could see in the set of his shoulders the weight of his impatience and disappointment. I realized I wasn't the only person being driven crazy by my current infirmity. He said, "I wanted to push the experiments off as far as possible because you're still the prime subject for our research, and I wanted you to be able to observe. But we can't wait much longer. Hydra may already be ahead of us. Come on, let's go back upstairs."

I went home soon after, and about five minutes later, Bucky stormed through the door, his face red and furious. His hair was a little wild-looking, as though he'd just been in a strong wind.

"What's wrong?" I said, alarmed.

"If that fucking doctor puts that machine anywhere near your head, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands. I won't even have to revert to my old self to do it. I could do it right now."

"Bucky, he was just showing it to me. Come on, sit down."

"I can't." Bucky started pacing the room. "This is insane. I feel so..."

"Helpless?" I volunteered. He stopped and looked at me in surprise, but I could see in his eyes that I was right. I said, "Join the club, my love. I have about a million different things making me feel helpless right now."

He sat down next to me with a thump and put his head in his hands. "I'm sorry to come charging in here like a bull, but I just don't... there's nothing... Steve left today."

I felt a cold chill. "To go talk to Tony Stark."

"Right. I have no idea what Stark will do to him. And it's all my fault."

"Bucky?"

He looked at me.

I took a deep breath. "I'm going to start spanking you every time you say that something is your fault. This is Hydra's fault. Hydra's. Nobody else's. Do you know what I saw, every time they put you into that chair?"

"What?" he asked quietly.

"I saw you resisting. I think that's why you screamed so much, why you were always sick afterward. Because you were fighting them."

He lifted his head from his hands and looked at me for a moment, and tears came into his eyes. "I... I did resist. I tried. I remember that. But I wasn't strong enough."

"You are one of the strongest men on this earth," I said firmly. "Or you wouldn't be sitting here now."

"I couldn't fight them."

"You did fight them, and you won. You didn't kill me. You didn't kill Steve. Remember those days, back in the cabin in the woods? You beat Hydra, Bucky. Do you know whether anybody else has ever done that?"

He shook his head.

"You're still fighting them now, every single day. Fighting to get back what they stole from you, fighting to be your own person again. And you're winning. Can you see that?" I was suppressing tears myself. I took a deep breath. "And I just wish... I wish I could help somehow."

We looked at each other for a moment, and then he smiled and pulled me close. "You do help. All of you help me... you, and Steve, and Joe... I just don't know if I'm worth all this."

"This and much more," I said, and now I was crying.

He held me as I cried against his shoulder, and I must have drifted off to sleep at some point because I woke up in bed, in his arms. We both got up and then Joe came home. It was a quiet evening.

I had a hard time eating; my stomach was tight just thinking about Steve out there somewhere, trying to reason with Tony Stark. Bucky's face was stressed as well. Even Joe was relatively quiet. It almost felt as though we were holding a kind of vigil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another note on Civil War: Zemo's plan in the film was particularly brilliant and sinister in that he didn't just inform Tony Stark of his parent's death, he actually _showed_ it to him... with the doer standing five feet away, and Tony already armed and equipped to fight. I personally believe that if it had happened in just about any other way, Tony wouldn't have lashed out the way he did. Zemo practically ensured his reaction.
> 
> But with it happening this way instead... what might happen differently?


	40. Chapter 40

Saturday, May 10th, 2014

I slept restlessly last night. Bucky stayed with me; there was no hint of sexual teasing between us, we were both too frightened.

My phone rang at 6 in the morning (Bucky refuses to carry a phone, god knows why). I answered it to Steve's voice, which sounded wearier than I'd ever heard it.

"Steve? You sound terrible."

"I've been up all night. We started talking yesterday at 4, and haven't stopped since."

"What's... the verdict?" I asked shakily. I felt Bucky behind me, so tense he was nearly trembling.

"Tony isn't coming to kill Bucky. Yet. Banner managed to calm him down; I guess he has the most experience at curbing a spell of rage. I can't talk long, I have to go back to them... I just wanted to give you guys the update. Can you tell Fury for me?"

"Absolutely. Thank you so much for calling, Steve." I felt a vast and impending doom dispel itself, leaving a sinking feeling of grief. I didn't want to think about what Stark might be going through. I disconnected the call.

"Well?" whispered Bucky.

"They told him. Steve said Banner calmed him down, he's not coming here, or at least not yet."

Bucky pressed his forehead against the back of my neck. I felt the tension leave him in a rush. "I would deserve whatever he did to me."

I didn't feel like arguing. I turned around. Bucky's eyes were tightly shut. I started kissing his face all over, small, sweet kisses. Relief was slowly creeping in, relaxing all of my muscles, and I realized I felt completely limp and weak after such a terrifying night. I could feel Bucky relaxing too.

I called Fury to let him know, and something in the sound of his voice told me that he'd had a sleepless night as well.

Bucky and I fell asleep again for several hours, making up for the lost night. When I woke up, I lifted myself up and saw that there were tears streaming down Bucky's face. He was shaking, but his eyes were closed. I shook him. "Hey."

He huffed a breath and his eyes snapped open, looking bewildered, and I realized that he had been crying in his sleep. "Hey." He sniffed and looked surprise as I wiped the tears from his face. "Is everything okay?"

"I should ask you that," I said. "Everything's okay with me."

"You need to eat."

My stomach growled, right on cue. "I guess."

He smiled. "You sound like you don't want to."

"Believe it or not, I get tired of eating all the time."

We got up and gave Joe the news. Joe surprised me by hugging Bucky tightly, and Bucky surprised me by returning it. Joe let him go and said, "I was pretty scared for you, big guy."

"I was pretty scared myself."

We ate, and then Bucky went off to be by himself for a little while. I guess he needed it. Joe and I spent the day looking at a catalog of baby furniture. I actually managed to find a few things I liked. In the early evening, Joe left to go see Lawrence (after a million reassurances from me that I would be fine without him; he looked like he could use a little comforting himself).

There was a knock on the door at 7pm, and I felt a knot of sudden fear in my stomach. But it was Steve, looking exhausted, which told me more than anything how difficult his journey had been. Just staying up all night wouldn't have been enough to wear him out; this had to be psychological.

But he gave us a tired smile. "It's good to see you. Where's Bucky?"

"Right behind you." Bucky stood in the doorway, looking calm but wary.

Steve spun on his heel and pulled Bucky into a hug that was so tight I could hear Bucky's breath being squeezed out of him. Steve whispered something that I couldn't hear, and I saw Bucky close his eyes and nod. They held each other for long seconds, and I averted my eyes as though in the presence of something sacred.

Bucky finally said faintly, "Steve, I can't breathe." And Steve let go, chuckling self-consciously. We all sat down together.

Steve said, "Tony wants to press charges."

I said, "No," flatly, the word popping out before I even realized it.

Steve nodded. "Yes, I agree, but that's actually a vast improvement... at first, he wanted to send an army here, and he and I nearly got into a fight. We're lucky Banner was there. I don't think I could have calmed him down. Tony and I are friends, but we've always had... differences."

"I'm guessing it's not going to help if I say sorry," said Bucky grimly.

"I wouldn't recommend it," said Steve. "I've told him that you're not going anywhere." He held Bucky's eyes. "I know that you'd willingly place your head on the chopping block, Bucky, but let us keep talking to him for a while. We may be able to navigate a way through this."

"I want to talk to him at some point," I said.

Steve looked at me thoughtfully. "I can't tell whether that's a good idea or a bad one."

"It may be a bad idea, but I have a very large stake in what happens to Bucky, and I should be allowed to try."

"How are you feeling, by the way?" asked Steve. It was the first time I knew that he knew what had been going on with me, but then, of course Bucky would have told him.

"Fine," I said.

"Fine?" asked Bucky.

I pressed my lips together, and then relented. "Okay, I'm a little tired still..."

"Then you don't need the stress of facing off with Tony Stark right now," said Steve firmly. "We've bought ourselves some time. You can talk to him once you're stronger."

I looked at my hands. "Just let me talk to him before we send Bucky off to prison."

"I think we can manage that," said Steve.

"What are we going to do about Siberia?" said Bucky tightly.

"That was a far easier topic to talk about," said Steve. "Tony agrees we need to go up there and clean house. I'm not going to reveal more details about that here or now, but it happens soon. Bucky, you will not be a part of this mission."

"I understand," said Bucky, but his face flushed slightly.

"There's something else, which isn't so encouraging," said Steve. "Tony searched through his father's files, and can't find any record of the serum formula. He didn't even find any encrypted files."

"I feel like Fury should be here for this," I said.

Steve nodded. "I've already briefed him on it. He suspects that the formula may be stored exclusively with you and the other EIDs. Probably with all of you, that would be safest."

"Hydra has two of us," I said. "So they have two parts of what they need."

"Fury has stepped up security. We're not going to lose any more of you."

"So what's the next step?" asked Bucky.

"Dr. Manscolm needs to finish that machine," I said. "We have to get that data out of us."

"Out of them," Bucky said firmly. "Not you."

"I'm in danger until we get my vault opened, Bucky," I said. "I need to try."

"God _dammit_ , Jess!" he exploded. I jumped. Bucky glared at me. "I know you're stubborn. I know you're strong. I know you're brave. But can you stop shoving yourself in front of the cannons for _TWO. FUCKING. SECONDS?!_ "

"Bucky," Steve said gently.

"Steve, no. This needs to be said." Bucky turned back to me and seized my hands, pulling me forward slightly, looking intently into my eyes. "I worry. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every _second_. I watch, I prepare, and I _worry_. Do you know why?"

He appeared to be waiting for me to answer, so I said, "Why?" in a small voice.

"Because I know you _WON'T_!" he burst out. "You don't care about your own safety! You never have! You broke your own mind without even thinking about it! Hydra came for you and you just _gave_ yourself to them! We can't keep you inside the apartment for over a day, not even to protect the baby! Manscolm says jump and you pull out a goddamn trampoline! _WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!_ What am I supposed to do to keep you safe? What..." his voice suddenly dwindled and broke, and he lowered his head as though he was exhausted. Which I know he is. "What do I do, Jess? What do I do?" he sounded broken and helpless and desperate, in a way he never has before.

I felt lower than shit.

Yeah, some of the stuff he said was unfair, but the overall feeling behind it... he had a point.

Then again... tears came to my eyes and I tried to suppress them. I cleared my throat. "Bucky... I don't know how to fix this, but I can't just be a walking incubator. I can't just let life _happen_ to me. What am _I_ supposed to do?"

"Let me protect you," he said hoarsely. "Just that. Only that. _Please._ "

"How much safety would satisfy you?" I said softly. "Do you think if you locked me up in a box with a bunch of pillows that all that fear is going to magically go away?"

He stared at me for a moment, and then got up and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

I sat, stunned. The tears started falling.

"Um," Steve said.

I turned to him. "Oh god, I'm sorry, Steve." I sniffled and rubbed my eyes against my sleeve.

He shook his head. "Don't be sorry, not to me." He sighed and dug into his pocket for something... I had to smile when he pulled out an old-fashioned hankerchief and gave it to me. I wiped my face a little.

"What do I do, Steve? Am I wrong?"

He gazed at me for a moment and gave me a small smile. "No, you're not wrong. But I can't exactly say he's overreacting, either. Not considering what he's been through. The things he knows."

"So what do _you_ think I should do?"

"Honestly? I think your top priority needs to be your baby." His eyes were both sympathetic and firm. I could feel the power in him; the power of someone who was accustomed to giving orders even when he wasn't sure what the best course was, and accustomed to taking responsibility for it if those orders turned out badly.

I shrugged uncomfortably. "I know I should, but it's just strange to do that. I've never done this before. I didn't exactly plan on it."

"We're all in uncharted waters right now. All I know is that we need each other."

I nodded and sniffed. "Steve, I really don't know how to make him feel better."

"Let me talk to him. He's had a rough week."

I nodded; he left.

I tried doing another crossword puzzle, but it was too obvious now that I was trying to get myself to remember things. My sideways method was broken. I couldn't write down any words that seemed to fit into any kind of a formula.

I looked down at my belly and, for the first time, I noticed a roundness. My pants had been tight for days, but this is the first time I've actually seen any indication of actual pregnancy in the shape of my body. I placed my hands gently against the swelling and said, "Am I too reckless? Daddy seems to think so."

I took a nap. Joe returned about an hour later, and asked about the boys... I wasn't sure what to tell him, so I just shrugged and blinked back tears.

Bucky and Steve didn't return, and now it's time for bed.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the break between chapters, life is refusing to adapt itself to my fic schedule for some reason. :)

Sunday, May 11th, 2014

I woke up this morning and immediately had to run to the bathroom to vomit.

It put me in the best mood ever. No, really. Because my brain has decided that vomiting = healthily pregnant, so having it happen again was enormously reassuring. After I was done, my eyes streaming and face red, I leaned against the bathroom sink and put one hand on my swelling belly and said, "You're a pain in the ass, you know that Joey?" in the same loving, sappy tone I would have used with Bucky.

I've decided that the baby's nickname will be Joey, regardless of male or female. For some reason, though, and I have no idea why, I feel that it will be a girl.

With my sense of reassurance came a desire to do something proactive about my situation. Just because I'm stuck at home doesn't mean I have to be out of the loop. I called Whit.

"Jessie," he said in his usual infallibly pleasant tone, "How are you? DeSilva said that you've been under the weather."

"That's probably the nicest way to say it," I said. "I'm not great. I have been stuck at home, and frankly I'm going nuts wanting to know what's going on. Can you maybe brief me on what I've missed?"

"Certainly, with some quid pro quo."

"Quid pro quo?"

"What's been going on under the veil? And don't pretend you don't know what I mean."

I sighed, feeling a combination of frustrated, wary, and strangely amused. I wish I knew how Whit knows the things he knows. "You know I can't tell you anything."

"Do I know that?"

"Fine," I said. "Get the others together and come by this evening. If I'm going to give you confidential data, I'd rather it be as a group so that you can discuss it with each other while you go through the files."

"What about DeSilva? We can't do our jobs unless we can tell her what we know."

"Hell, bring her too."

Whit paused. "You want me to issue her an order?"

"Try asking nicely. I can't leave the apartment, so that's my best offer. How about 7?"

"Sounds delightful. See you then."

Joe knocked on my door as I disconnected the phone. He peeked in. "Hey bratface."

"Hey dickwad." I smiled. "Time for breakfast?"

"I was wondering why you weren't out there already. You have a guest."

"I do?" I put the phone down and ran my hands through my hair. "Anybody important?"

"Not really, just the babydaddy."

I nearly pushed Joe over in my rush to get past him and down the hallway. Bucky was sitting at the table by the kitchen; he stood up quickly and took one step toward me, and then I was in his arms and everything was alright again. I said a muffled, "I love you," against his chest.

He kissed the top of my head. "I love you too. I'm so, so sorry for exploding and leaving like that."

"I'm sorry for having no sense of self-preservation. What did Steve say to you?"

"Oh, he listened to me rant for an hour and then very politely told me that if I didn't stop being an idiot, he was going to put me face-first through a brick wall."

"Steve said that?" I was scandalized.

"Much as I hate to admit it, sometimes that's the best thing you can say to a lunkhead like me."

"I'll keep that in mind." I lifted my face and he kissed me. His eyes looked sad. "It's still bothering you, though. What are we going to do about that?"

"Are you worried about Tony Stark coming to get me?"

I nodded.

"Then let me worry about Hydra coming to get you. At least until we have some kind of assurance that we've wiped out whoever has you targeted."

"And then you can worry about entirely new and exciting things, like daycare," said Joe airily, putting the tea kettle on the stove.

"What's daycare?" asked Bucky.

"Um, something to deal with later," I said. "When we're both able to work. Joe, I invited the other EIDs to come over again tonight."

Joe turned to me with wide eyes. "You secretly hate me, don't you?"

"The apartment looks fine already. And please don't put out snacks this time, nobody ate them last time."

"Their lack of manners does not excuse my own. Where is the Windex? And for the love of fuck, would you to please disentangle yourselves?"

"No," said Bucky, holding me tighter. I laughed.

We _did_ finally let go of each long enough to eat breakfast. I told Bucky and Joe about my conversation with Whit.

Bucky said, "I think you should include Steve and Fury."

Joe stared at him. "It's both of you. Both of you hate me."

I looked around the room. "Do we even have enough places for everybody to sit?"

Joe was so irate that he ordered both Bucky and myself back to my room for the next few hours. "And if I hear shenanigans happening in there, I will come in with a bucket of ice water and douse the bed. Or the floor. Or wherever you're doing it."

"We get the message," said Bucky with irritation.

"Good. Go away."

After I closed the door behind us, I said, "I think he actually wants us out of the apartment, but he knows I shouldn't go for a long walk."

"That's right. No exertion for you." Bucky picked me up and carried me to the bed. I laughed as he put me down and sat down beside me. "So where _do_ you want to go?" he said. There was a twinkle in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"You and I have one-way tickets out of D.C., going anywhere we want to go. Where are we headed, co-pilot?"

I took his metal hand in my own and kissed it. "Hmm. Africa?"

"Africa is a big continent, what country?"

"Zimbabwe."

"Do you have the faintest idea where that is?"

"No." I smiled. "You suggest something, then."

"Anywhere but Germany."

I laughed. "France?"

"Been there, done... some of that."

"I bet you did."

He grinned. "The food is good."

"But I'm lactose intolerant," I pointed out. "They use a lot of cream and butter over there."

"C'est la vie."

I thought for a moment. "Actually, you know what? New Zealand. I've always wanted to go there."

"Now that's a place I've never been. What do they have there?"

"Really beautiful landscapes. Interesting animals and plants. I hear the people are really nice."

He kicked his shoes off and climbed into bed behind me. "Tell me where else we would go."

"Oh, I don't know." I yawned. "Is this a bedtime story?"

"Kinda."

I lay back against him. "Where else in Europe have you been?"

"Oh... Belgium... Austria... Poland... I wasn't really there to sight-see, though. We mostly shot people and blew things up."

"You and Steve?"

"Sure."

I turned to look at him. "You and I would be there to be peaceful. Get jobs, have the baby, live quietly."

"I could live with that." He put his right hand on my belly. I felt him push himself up a little. "Hey, your tummy feels different."

"I'm starting to show a little."

"Show me?"

I wriggled around until I was on my back and hiked my shirt up a little. The bulge was small, but visibly there. He traced a circle around it with his fingertip. I said, "If you like that, just wait. There's going to be a fuck of a lot more of it."

"I can't wait." His hand strayed a little further up, brushing the lower curve of one of my breasts.

We looked into each others' eyes, and at exactly the same time we said, "Tomorrow." Then we both laughed. I swatted his hand away and pulled my shirt down.

It took a little while, but I relaxed into his arms and slept.

Joe woke us up a couple of hours later, and I showered and changed into somewhat presentable clothing. When I was finished, I walked out into the living room and saw Bucky. I stopped dead, staring.

Bucky shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't stare."

I looked at Joe. "What on earth did you do to him?"

"Oh, you love it," said Joe, smirking.

I looked back at Bucky. "I do?"

Bucky's hair was... fixed, for lack of a better word. It had been combed, and I was pretty sure there was some kind of product in it to make it somewhat wavy and shiny as it swept back from his forehead. He was also clean-shaven. His shirt had been ironed.

I couldn't stop staring. He looked really nice, actually, but there was something strange about it that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

It was like someone had tamed a wolf and taught it to use a curling iron.

I managed with some difficulty to not laugh. "I love it," I said brightly.

Bucky narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I'm not sure I believe you."

There was a knock on the door.

"Wellll, too late to change it now," said Joe. He went to the door. "Steve, how lovely to see you!"

Steve walked in, smiling, and stopped dead, staring at Bucky.

Bucky pointed at Joe. "He did it."

Steve looked at Joe, and then back at Bucky. He said, "You look great!" I have to say, he pulled it off better than I did. Not that Bucky believed him.

Joe ushered Steve inside and we all sat down; new chairs had magically appeared in the living room from nowhere that I could see. Had Joe actually gone out and bought more chairs?

"Steve, when are you going to Siberia?" asked Bucky.

"Sometime in the next 36 hours," said Steve. "We're waiting for Natasha to complete another mission."

We all sat quietly for a moment, absorbing this.

Joe cleared his throat. "Listen... should I be here for tonight's little confab? I mean, I know a lot, but..."

"I don't see any reason why you shouldn't be here," said Steve. "You need to know what Jessie is facing."

Joe nodded. "Roger. I mean, right."

The next knock on the door was Fury, who walked inside, glanced at all of us, and only paused a fraction of a second at the sight of Bucky. I admired his composure as he sat down. Bucky looked very disgruntled by this point, but his hair looked fabulous.

Steve and Fury had arrived a little early; the EIDs arrived perfectly on time, because, well, I've already been over all that. Yumiko, Samuel, and Train were visibly startled by the presence of Fury and Steve. Whit, of course, revealed nothing. DeSilva merely stumped inside the door, introduced herself and said, "What's there to drink? I suspect we'll be doing a lot of talking tonight."

Joe went to the kitchen. "We have mineral water, sparkling water, soda, juice... wine? We would have whiskey but the super soldiers drank it all on our last Scrabble night."

"Now that's a waste of good whiskey," said Fury. DeSilva laughed.

We exchanged a few pleasantries and everybody found a seat. Fury started us off.

"Everything said in this room tonight is vaulted to the people within it. I will expect the same level of secrecy even from those of you without a vault. Are we clear?"

We all nodded; I and the other EIDs straightened and prepared ourselves.

"Can Jessie handle a vault right now?" said Bucky warily.

"Ask her," said Fury.

I said, "A few hours of conversation shouldn't break me, Bucky."

Which means that obviously I can't write anything down that we talked about after that. But I've already written most of it down anyway in this journal. Which makes me feel like an ass. Did Dr. Manscolm anticipate large-scale security leaks when he had me start this damn thing?

I guess as long as the Siberia thing happens soon, and I don't actually write down the ingredients of Stark's serum, we're all okay.

Things I can say:

I and the other EIDs are better at talking to each other now. Fury and Steve were both smart and professional. Joe kept his mouth shut, which was remarkable to see. Bucky only talked when he had to, and I decided to do the same, only stepping in when something pertained directly to me. Whit was five steps ahead of the conversation at all times. Yumiko still gets on my nerves. Bucky still makes three of the EIDs nervous, though they squinted a little at the new hairstyle. And DeSilva had a knack for cutting through the conversation right at the points where everybody was getting confused and tangled up, and detangling it all with a few words.

At one point I found myself actually lost in admiration. I was surrounded by some of the finest minds in SHIELD, watching them operate at top capacity.

The evening grew late, and Joe and Bucky exchanged a look that I couldn't interpret at first until they both looked at me. Bucky cleared his throat. "It's about time for you to get some rest, Jess."

I wanted _so badly_ to fight with him over it, but he was right, I was getting tired. Fury made things easy for me by wrapping up the meeting and ending the vault. "I think that's a good note to end on. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Couring."

Joe nodded. "My pleasure. You're entirely welcome any time."

I made a mental note to give him shit about that later.

Whit stood up. "Jessie, before we go, you should know that the first test of Manscolm's device is set for Tuesday."

I swallowed. "So soon?"

"Something tells me he wished it could have been sooner," said Whit, smiling pleasantly.

"Are you and Train ready?"

"As we'll ever be," said Train. "Which means no. But we're gonna do it anyway. Will you be there?"

I looked at Bucky. "I guess that's up to my doctor." Bucky nodded, looking relieved.

Steve was the last one to leave; Joe began cleaning up as I said goodbye. I gave Steve a tight hug and said, "Good luck in Siberia. Please be careful."

"We'll be so careful they won't even know we were there," he said with a wink, and hugged me back.

Bucky was still on the couch, carefully not looking at Steve.

Steve looked at him. "Buck."

Bucky shook his head, and finally looked up. "Yeah." His eyes were haunted again.

They exchanged a long look. Finally, Steve said, "Be careful with that hairdo."

Bucky was surprised into a laugh. "Get out of here, you dope."

"I'll see you in a few, jerk." Steve looked at me. "Take care of him while I'm gone."

I nodded. "Absolutely." Steve left, and I looked at Bucky. He was staring at the wall.

I went to sit beside him. "Come on. Let's help Joe clean up and then go to bed."

"No need," Joe said as he carried glasses into the kitchen. "Just go."

"Are you sure?" Bucky said.

"Shoo! Go!"

We went.

This entry took a really long time to write; Bucky is pretending to be asleep on the bed without me, and he's not very good at it. His breathing is growing more and more annoyed by the minute, and he's just about to... well, here he comes to get me. Time for bed.


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this is nerve-wracking... posting a chapter again after such a long break! I hope some of you are still out there hoping for updates, because this fic isn't even halfway through. I never did stop writing, but Real Life(tm) kept me from posting for a while. I'm back!

Monday, May 12th, 2014

Bucky's hair reverted in the night to its formerly shaggy normal state. Apparently the wolf doesn't tame permanently.

Doctor day, thank fuck. I didn't throw up this morning, but I was at least very nauseated, though that may have been simple anticipation.

The visit with Dr. Javier was "fraught with tension", as they say.

I answered all of his questions; I haven't been dizzy for several days, I'm eating well and sleeping soundly, my urine is clear, I haven't had any cramps, no spotting, and I've been resting like a good girl. Bucky and I were both very silent and still through the examination, and even more still when Dr. Javier exchanged a few quiet words with his nurse, and still as statues when he returned to give us the results.

Dr. Javier seemed pleased by everything; his rosy cheeks were even rosier than usual as he said, "We're doing wonderfully well today!"

I cleared my throat. "Doctor, can I go back to work?" I resisted the urge to add _please?!_

He tilted his head speculatively. "I sense we're just a touch restless, being cooped up in the house."

I nodded.

"Okay, then. Resume your usual routine, but _no running_ , young lady. Walking only. And if you experience any dizziness or cramps, I want you to stop whatever you are doing immediately and go home and rest."

I nodded again, this time more hopefully. "And what about Dr. Manscolm's work? Can I participate?"

Dr. Javier said, "What would be involved?"

"Torture," Bucky said flatly.

"It's not going to be torture!" I said with exasperation. "And I'm not going to be wearing the device, I just want to be able to be there and watch."

Bucky turned to the doctor. "So it's watching other people get tortured."

Dr. Javier looked disapproving, but I couldn't tell whether it was of the idea or of the fact that Bucky and I were arguing like kids. He said, "Let me discuss it with Frederick and I'll let you know this evening. How do we feel about that?"

It took me a second to remember that was Dr. Manscolm's first name. I nodded. "Fair enough."

There was a pause.

"And what about..." Bucky trailed off, turning red.

"Oh yes, you may have sex again, just don't wear out the Kamasutra," said Dr. Javier cheerfully. "Nothing too athletic."

I looked at Bucky. "We'll have to take down the sex swing then."

Bucky quickly said, "She's joking." He glared at me.

I giggled.

We went to see Dr. Nami, and I told her about the crossword puzzle. For the first time, she seemed something other than completely baffled. She told me to do an exercise: sit and write down random words, but without looking at what I was writing, for ten minutes each evening. So that should be interesting.

When we stepped inside Dr. Manscolm's office, he looked exhilarated.

"Well, we're testing Nimrod tomorrow," he announced.

"I know, Whit and Train told me," I said.

Dr. Manscolm looked mildly disappointed at having his thunder stolen, but he recovered quickly. "Well, the good news is that we were able to speed up development, given that our first test subjects do not have extensive memory damage. Our original goal was to be able to restore a damaged neuronal map so that we could heal your memory, Jessie. But while Whit and Train have blocks, those don't really constitute damage so much as a form of mental conditioning. In this case, we're merely reading what's there. And the work you've been doing with DeSilva, making various connections, allows us to start with a database of generic facts that key into what we want to know."

Bucky and I exchanged a look. I looked back at Dr. Manscolm. "Meaning what exactly?"

"Meaning we can rely upon the process of recognition rather than the process of recall. Basically, when you see someone or something you have encountered before, we call it recognition. But when you are trying to call a memory to mind without any sort of a reminder sensory input, we call it recall. Recognition is many times more efficient than recall. By feeding data into the mind, we can trigger recognition of details that lead to--"

Honestly, he kept on like that for about ten minutes, and I'm damned if I'm going to write it all down. Basically, he was encouraged and happy, and Bucky for a change didn't give him too much crap over it.

I finally broke in and said, "Dr. Javier wants to discuss with you whether I can come to the test tomorrow."

Dr. Manscolm immediately sobered. "I suppose that's up to you, Jessie. How are you feeling?"

I smiled tightly. "I am feeling like I will be much more stressed by not knowing what's happening, than I would be by being there."

Dr. Manscolm smiled. "Somehow I suspected as much. And Bucky, will you be there? We never did quite reach a consensus on that."

"If she's there, so am I."

I made the prudent decision not to fight it.

"Actually, I'm willing to go further than that," said Bucky.

Dr. Manscolm frowned. "Oh?"

"I want to get into the machine before anybody else does."

Both the doctor and I stared at Bucky. I blinked a few times, not quite believing it. "I'm sorry, did you just say you... were going to... let him poke around in your brain?"

Bucky glanced at me and then back at the doctor. "I've been thinking about this since you showed Jessie the device. You've been flying blind on this project. This tech is something that Hydra would have protected from SHIELD as much as possible. The issue isn't whether something will go wrong; it's what will go wrong first, and how bad it's going to be."

Dr. Manscolm squinted. "If I understand you, you're willing to sacrifice yourself to my supposed ineptitude?"

Bucky considered that for a moment and shrugged. "Basically."

"I'm not sure how I feel about that," I said.

Bucky looked at me calmly. "Given your determination to do this no matter what, you don't get a say in whether I do it first."

I opened my mouth to argue, and then shut it again, feeling flushed. Dammit, he was right.

Even writing this now, I'm wishing I could argue, and he's still right. If I insist upon trying the device at some point, then so can he. Dammit.

"I don't want you digging too deep," said Bucky. "All I want to do is ensure you don't kill anybody."

Dr. Manscolm said, "We can do a simple diagnostic run on you, where we suggest a memory, read a memory, and record nothing."

"Fine," said Bucky. His face was pale, but otherwise he was as composed as I'd ever seen him around the doctor.

"Um," I said. Bucky gave me a look that said argument was a bad idea, but I forged ahead anyway. "What... exactly... do you plan to do if something goes wrong, that Whit or Train wouldn't be able to do?"

"Exactly what you told me the other day that you saw me do," said Bucky. "Fight it. And then report back that something is wrong. I have a better chance of knowing whether something went wrong than the other two."

Dr. Manscolm said, "Bucky, if that's really what you want, I won't prevent you. But I caution you that trying Nimrod yourself may bring up suppressed past trauma and pain. Whit and Train have no such memories to recall. It would be less traumatic for them than it will be for you, no matter how simple I keep the procedure."

Bucky thought about it for a moment. "On the other hand, if the machine doesn't work, you're only damaging previously damaged goods rather than a pristine brain."

"What?!" I burst out.

"Tell me I'm wrong," said Bucky.

"You're wrong!"

Dr. Manscolm cut in, "Bucky, believe it or not, your brain is no less valuable to me with its damage. I suspect Jessie feels the same way. Further damage would be just as much a tragedy." He cleared his throat. "But causing such damage is highly unlikely with the safeguards we've implanted."

Bucky nodded. "Won't we just see about that."

We left after some more reassurances from the doctor, but I was stunned and unable to process what had just happened until we were nearly home again. Once we got inside, I pulled him to the sofa and sat him down. "Bucky."

"Is this the part where you try to convince me not to do this?" His voice was quiet.

I paused. "What kind of a girlfriend would I be if I didn't at least try?"

He frowned. "I guess you have a point."

"But I'm not going to try very hard. I just want to look into your eyes. Will you look at me?"

Bucky took both of my hands in his and kissed each of them, and then looked into my eyes with his stormy blue ones.

I regarded him for a moment, just thinking about how much I loved him and about what a stubborn bastard he is and about how much he and I have in common.

I said, "If you do this, can you promise me something?"

"What's that?"

"Promise me that you'll give yourself credit for doing something noble and courageous."

His eyes were confused. "Noble?"

"Noble. And courageous. Because that's the kind of man you are. That's part of why I love you."

He dropped his eyes, blushing a little. "I'm not sure it's that courageous. I've done it before, remember?"

"That's exactly what makes it so courageous. I'm not letting this go, Bucky. I mean it. If you do this, we both agree that you're not the monster you think you are."

He closed his eyes, and I could see him trying. "Maybe," he said.

I let go of his hands and pulled his face toward me and kissed his closed eyes and his forehead and then his mouth. He was still for a moment, and then began to kiss me back. We hadn't really kissed much in days, because it had been a maddening tease, so... things began to heat up quickly.

He opened his eyes and I paused, looking at him. "Guess what?" I said, smiling a little.

"We're going to have a baby?" he said, returning a little more smile.

"Yeah, but first? We're going to have SEX. A LOT of it. NOW. Come ON." And I dragged him off to bed.

When he entered me, my eyes involuntarily closed and I think I made a sound I've never made in my life. He made an odd noise himself and nearly collapsed on top of me, his arms suddenly shaky.

I gasped for breath and said, "I think I missed you..."

"Don't talk or I'll do something embarrassing."

I started to laugh. "Like what?"

"Oh god, don't laugh either..." he panted a few times and then groaned, and I realized that he was on the verge of coming already.

I kissed the side of his neck. "You're lucky you have that eternal stiffy going on, or you'd be in trouble right now. Bucky?"

"Yeah?" He pushed himself up and looked into my eyes. His own were almost fully dilated.

"Fuck me."

He clenched his jaw and managed four strokes before he came so hard that his spasms shook the bed, and somehow with those four strokes got me so close myself that I was twitching and moaning in desperation by the time he recovered and began to move again.

I lost count after coming the first four (or whatever) times; after two hours, we got up to eat something, and then went back to bed and right back to it.

Joe came home at some point; we heard the door open and shut. I whispered, "You want to stop?"

" _NO._ "

We didn't stop, and we weren't particularly quiet either; Bucky appeared to have broken through some of his shyness. He was entirely focused on me, and I didn't mind that at all.

My phone rang a few minutes later, and I half wondered whether it was Joe fucking around with us, but then I remembered that Dr. Javier had said he would call. "Wait a second," I said to Bucky.

"You've got to be kidding me," he mumbled, nuzzling between my breasts.

"I'm serious, it may be the doctor."

"Oh. Right."

I answered the call. "Hello?" I tried not to sound breathless.

"Jessie, how are we this evening?"

I saw no point in lying. Bucky had started using his mouth on my nipples. "Absolutely fantastic," I said blissfully.

"Why that's wonderful to hear! I discussed tomorrow's NMRD test with Frederick, and we both agree that you should be present, especially considering the fact that Bucky has volunteered to participate. Just so long as you immediately tell Frederick if you feel dizzy, woozy, or uncomfortable. Is that clear?"

"Clear as crystal," I said, trying not to moan.

"Enjoy your evening!"

"I intend to!" I disconnected and grinned at Bucky. "I'm coming tomorrow."

"You're coming right now, if I have anything to do with it," he growled, and then he was on top of me again.

"That's a terrible pun," I gasped. "You should feel bad."

"I feel awful," he said, biting my neck. "Let me try to make it up to you."

At some point maybe an hour later, Joe knocked loudly on the door.

Bucky and I paused, and Bucky said, "What?" in a tone of preoccupied irritation.

"Steve's here," Joe called through the door.

Bucky and I went from utter and unconcerned sexual abandon to chastened alarm in less than a second, frantically scrambling to get our clothes back on. Once we were semi-presentable, we opened the door to a smug-looking Joe who took one look at Bucky and said, "Well, I see the hair didn't last."

"Nope," Bucky said, angling himself out the door and past Joe to head down to the living room.

We found Steve pacing the floor back and forth. He was as rattled as I've ever seen him. The moment his eyes found Bucky, he stopped and said in a tight voice, "Just what in the hell are you doing, Buck?"

Bucky and I both froze, probably with identical looks of confusion and guilt on our faces. I knew we were both flushed with afterglow.

Steve said, "Well? Dr. Manscolm notified Fury, and Fury called me."

Light dawned on us. Bucky cleared his throat. "This is about the test tomorrow?"

"What else?"

I said, "I'm going to... uh... get us all some drinks. Be right back." I managed not to giggle insanely until I made it into the kitchen. I don't think Steve would have taken it too well.

I peeked out of the kitchen a few moments later and saw that Steve and Bucky were sitting on the sofa, close together. Steve had one hand on Bucky's shoulder and he looked intensely worried. Bucky looked unhappy. They were talking in voices so quiet I could barely hear them, and I decided that this was one conversation they probably didn't need me to be a part of, so I went back to my room, where Joe was still standing by the door.

Joe smirked at me. "Did you have a nice day?"

I smirked right back at him. "Point of fact, why yes, yes I did. A _very_ nice day. How was yours?"

"Not as nice as yours, I'm afraid. Lawrence dumped me."

If I'd been anything other than completely distracted before, I would have noticed that Joe's hair was mussed and his eyes were red. I was shocked. "He... why?"

"He wouldn't tell me. Which is, as far as I'm concerned, deeply fucked up and as good a reason for writing him off as anything else."

"He wouldn't _tell_ you?"

"No! Acted like he was under some kind of clandestine restriction not to tell me. All he would say was that he was going out of town for a few days. He was all dramatic about it." Joe sniffed. "I would respect him more if he'd just admitted he'd found a better piece of ass."

I put a hand on Joe's shoulder. "Joe, I've been on the sidelines of enough of your relationships to know that there's no better piece of ass in the world than you."

He laughed and pulled me into a tight hug. "Except maybe you, if the grunting and squawking I heard through your door earlier is any indication."

"I'm pretty sure we weren't squawking."

"Says you. I'm the objective party here."

I ruffled his hair. "Do we need ice cream?"

"You don't eat ice cream."

"Correction: do _you_ need ice cream?"

Joe hesitated for a moment and then slowly nodded, his eyes sad.

"Come on. The boys are otherwise occupied in the living room, I think we can take the kitchen."

So Joe ate ice cream out of the carton and I ate peanut butter out of the jar (I'm pregnant, don't judge me) and we talked about Lawrence, newly entitled The Shithead. A few minutes later he became The Balding Shithead, because according to Joe his hair is thinning despite efforts to hide it ("But there's only so much you can hide a thinning patch when you're giving a blowjob and your lover has nothing to stare at but the top of your head").

Suddenly I heard Steve's voice in the living room, raised. "You keep insisting that your brain is damaged while simultaneously asking me to trust its decisions!"

I winced, looking at Joe. "It may be time for me to go out there."

"Better you than me. I will continue to weep softly into my melting ice cream which is nearly _gone_ and I am going to gain _fifty pounds_."

"Don't even talk about weight gain to me." I went out to the living room. Steve was standing up, looking riled, for lack of a better word. Bucky was looking up at him unhappily. "Hi guys," I said timidly.

Steve looked at me with grief in his eyes. "Sorry, Jessie. I'm a little upset right now."

"No need to be sorry. But if Bucky is brain-damaged, I figured I'd better get involved in the conversation." I saw a light of hurt in Bucky's eyes, and before he could open his mouth I said, "Bucky is right."

They both stared at me.

"Don't look so shocked. All three of us are so consumed with worry for, well, all three of us that it's a wonder any of us get anything done." I sat down. "I have a damaged brain myself, but you can be damn sure I still want to make my own decisions. He has the same right. Much as I want to hit him over the head for it."

Steve sat down next to Bucky again and rubbed his face with his hands. "What if he never comes completely back from that experiment?"

Bucky said, "What if you never come back from Siberia?"

They looked at each other and it was as raw and open as I've ever seen it; pure love. The kind that runs so deep that it hurts to even talk about it.

"Steve, would it help if you came and watched?" I said.

"Maybe. Do you want me there, Buck?"

Bucky gave Steve a half smile. "Wasn't that our agreement? Til the end of the line."

"So you _were_ going to tell me, then?"

"Absolutely," Bucky said firmly. "I just had... some business to take care of first." He glanced at me and coughed, then his eyes turned back to Steve. "Sorry, pal."

Steve glanced at me and blushed. "Sorry I stormed over here."

"And I'm sorry we didn't call you immediately," I said. "Are we all appropriately sorry now? Because Joe got dumped today."

Joe flew out of the kitchen with a spoon still in his hand. "Tell the whole world why don't you?!"

"And that answers the question of whether you were eavesdropping on us or not."

Joe glared at me and then turned to Steve. "For the record, I think Bucky is nuts to do the mindwarp thing."

"Um, thanks. Lawrence dumped you?"

"Yes, though I prefer the phrase 'he ended our amour, not without regret'." Joe sat down. "I take it the fact that we're discussing my personal life means we're all best buddies again?"

Bucky and Steve looked at each other, and then Bucky looked at Joe. "I'm not sure of the protocol here, uh, do we ask why the amour ended, or do we ask why you have a spoon?"

"The question is not why I have a spoon, but why I do _not_ have ice cream."

"Joe," I said with exasperation.

"You may ask why the amour ended. I did. He wouldn't say." Joe gave us a big false smile.

"Does it have anything to do with Siberia?" asked Steve.

Joe blinked. "What about Siberia?"

"He's been assigned to the strike team. We have no idea how many super soldiers we'll be dealing with, so Fury has assigned some SHIELD forces to come with us."

Joe stared at Steve for a minute, his face turning pale and his nostrils flaring. He only does that when he is truly, deeply enraged. "Son of a bitch," he said softly. "I wonder how many relationships he's sacrificed to some bullshit idea of information security. Do you have any idea, Steve?"

"Um. No?" said Steve.

"I _knew_ there was something funny going on. He's either trying to protect me or protect the mission, and either way this is _utter_ and _profound_ horseshit. Excuse me, my loves, but I need to make a short call, and Steve, I may need you to jump on for just a second if you wouldn't mind."

Steve tilted his head warily. "Sure."

Joe pulled out his phone and hit the speed-dial (Lawrence had apparently not been erased just yet), calmly crossing his legs as he waited through the rings. "Lawrie." He paused. "No, I'm not calling about that. I'm calling about Siberia.... How do I know about Siberia? Oh darling, let me just tell you how I fucking know about Siberia. I'm on a special task force involved in extracting data from Hydra. We're actually holding an informal meeting right now to iron out a few key details of strategy. Mmmhmm. I'm here with Captain Rogers now... would you like to confirm with him? Oh no, I'm sure he doesn't mind." Joe handed the phone to Steve.

Steve cautiously put the phone to his face and cleared his throat. "Rogers here. Is this Eitzing?" His voice had taken on a commanding quality that was subtly sexy and, I strongly suspect, mostly reflex. "No, there's no problem. At least not on this end.... No need to worry about that either. All security protocols have been followed to the letter. I do have some instructions for you." He covered the phone with his hand and whispered, "Do you want him to come over?" Joe nodded frantically. Steve uncovered the phone. I have seriously got to tell him about the mute button someday. Steve said, "I want you to report to Couring's address ASAP. We'll be expecting you. Out." He disconnected and handed the phone back to Joe.

Joe's eyes were shining, almost near tears. "I think that's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

I shook my head, feeling dazed. "Joe, I think you just borrowed Captain America's military authority to assist in getting apology fellatio."

"I think that's more information than I needed," said Steve.

We turned the discussion to Siberia as we waited for Lawrence to arrive, and I'd probably better not write too much about that. But after about twenty minutes there was a smart-sounding knock on the door.

Joe sweetly said, "Jessie, would you kindly get that for us?"

Ordinarily I'd have told him to screw himself, but this was too entertaining not to play along. I went to the door and opened it to... a surprisingly handsome man with dark red hair that, yes, might have been thinning a little on the top perhaps, but still looked good. His bearing was almost painfully dignified and there was worry in his green eyes. Joe was always a sucker for green eyes. And redheads.

"Please come in," I said warmly. "We were just wrapping up."

Lawrence came into the living room and promptly snapped to attention, saluting Steve. "Reporting as ordered, Sir."

"As you were, Eitzing. Thanks for joining us. Have a seat." Steve magnanimously gestured to the remaining chair in the room, and Lawrence gingerly sat down. He met Joe's eyes, which were blazing with anger, and hastily looked away. Steve said, "This is Sergeant Barnes, you already know Joe, and this is Joe's sister Jessie. They've been integral to our intelligence operations since before the fall of Hydra."

Lawrence smiled weakly at us. "Pleasure."

"Oh, the pleasure is all ours," said Joe with poisoned sweetness.

Steve evidently decided the charade was over, but he didn't entirely lose his military bearing as he turned to Bucky. "Tomorrow at one?"

"I'll see you there," said Bucky.

They held eye contact for a moment, and then Steve nodded. He put a hand on Bucky's shoulder briefly and left. I suspect he wanted to get out of the house before the apology fellatio began.

Bucky suddenly (and fakely) yawned, saying, "Welllll, time for me to get some rest..."

I nodded, realizing that I was actually exhausted. It had been an incredibly long day and I hadn't had a nap. I said, "Time for me to get some rest as well."

Bucky stood up and came to me, offering his hand. "Shall we?" He smiled.

So he was staying over. I smiled back and took his hand, and let him lead me back to my room.

Poor Lawrence. We left him alone with Joe, who had an evil look in his eyes.

It's actually Tuesday morning as I'm writing this because it was WAY too long to write down last night and I was really tired, and besides, there was no way Bucky was going to let me stay up long enough to write it all. So I can go ahead and tell you about last night:

We fell dead asleep the moment our heads hit the pillow. Also, I completely forgot about the free-association writing I was supposed to do for Dr. Nami, but I can do that tonight I guess.

I woke up in his embrace, that mixture of metal and skin that I adore so much, and felt a distinct hardness pressing against my ass. I smiled. "I take it you're awake. What time is it?"

"7. I've been awake for an hour," he murmured in my ear.

"You should have woken me up."

"Nah, I was enjoying the anticipation." He kissed my ear. "Hey..."

"What?"

"You supported me last night. With Steve, I mean. My decision."

I turned in his arms and kissed him. "Believe it or not, I'm actually on your side. Even when you drive me nuts."

We kissed again, and I felt his hand slide down my body to the inside of my thigh. He said, "How many times did we get up to yesterday?"

I shivered. "Maybe eight?"

"I bet I can top that."

I'm not sure whether we did or not because I was completely incoherent after the first two and a half hours, but I can certainly affirm that we tried.

Okay, about time to wrap up writing... Bucky's pulling me back into bed.

Not that I don't want to go.


	43. Chapter 43

Tuesday, May 13th, 2014

Today was eventful.

Bucky and I had a very late breakfast with Joe and Lawrence, and I'm not sure what Joe did to him, but Joe looked extremely smug and Lawrence seemed far more relaxed this morning than he was last night. His demeanor was still sharp, though, as well as his eyes, because the moment Bucky sat down at the table, Lawrence said, "Excuse me, is that a Marfione?"

Bucky stared at him for a moment, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out an unremarkable-looking gray switchblade. I recognized it as the tool used in the murder of the late Bruno the stuffed bear. "Yes it is. How did you even see it?"

"I noticed the outline as you sat down. I've always wanted one," Lawrence said somewhat shyly.

Bucky handed it to him. "Care to take a look?"

"Thanks." Lawrence took the knife and flipped it open, hefting it cautiously. His eyes widened. "The balance is _perfect_."

Bucky gave him a wide, genuine smile. "I have to say this one's my favorite, it seems to fit my hand better than any of the others."

"What else have you got?"

"Well, I have an original WWII issue Fairbairn-Sykes dagger..."

I thought Lawrence's eyes were going to pop out of his head. "You're joking."

"Not at all. I don't have it on me, though, too big. Here..."

Joe and I stared as Bucky proceeded to take out no fewer than four knives, seeming to produce them out of thin air. (Fucking FOUR KNIVES. How many does he have on himself when he's actually dressed for battle?!) He and Lawrence proceeded to hand them back and forth and chat about them excitedly.

I looked at Joe with alarm. "I have concerns."

Joe put his hand on mine. "Darling, we are about to become military wives. You _should_ have concerns."

I blinked at him for a moment, because it had only just occurred to me to wonder what the baby's last name was going to be. Somehow, Bucky and I had avoided the notion of marriage this whole time. I wondered how he felt about marriage in general. I suspected that his old-fashioned upbringing was probably at war with his perception of himself as a terrible choice of life partner.

Let me try this on for size: Jessie Barnes. Jessica Barnes, really.

I just got a little shiver and tears in my eyes writing that down. Oh my god, I am twelve after all.

Now this is the part where I always get confused: is it Jessica Couring Barnes, or do I keep my middle name? I always liked my middle name. Let's try my full name. Jessica Willow Barnes? Jessica Willow Couring Barnes? Jessica Willow Barnes-Couring? With the baby being Stephanie Josephine Barnes-Couring? Wow, that sounds really dignified. She could be a senator.

What if we have another baby, say a boy? We could use middle names. William instead of Willow... Buchanan William Barnes-Couring would sound good. Another totally overly-dignified name. We'd call him Bucky Jr. of course.

What the FUCK am I babbling about? I have no idea whether I can handle one baby, let alone two!

Plus I've heard that hyphenated last names are really difficult for people to deal with.

Jesus Christ, Jessie. Pull yourself together. I've been kind of hazy all evening.

Discussing this with Bucky this evening was not really an option; we had more serious issues to deal with after today's initial test of Nimrod. Obviously things didn't go too disastrously if I'm trying out baby names this evening, but it wasn't pleasant. Not that I had expected it to be.

Everybody (meaning Dr. Manscolm, Bucky, Steve, myself, Whit, Train, and a couple more technicians) was there on time, and Dr. Manscolm looked radiant and anxious at the same time. The basement laboratory looked as it had looked before with one key difference: there was a space to the side of the machines that had been separated by a dark blue curtain, and I couldn't see what was beyond it.

I thought there would be a lot of preparation, but there wasn't, really. Dr. Manscolm indicated the chair, and Bucky, after a second's hesitation, sat down. His jaw was set firmly.

Something flickered in my head. It wasn't a memory, but it might have been the ghost of one.

I sat down in one of the nearby rolling chairs and took Bucky's hand, and he took it back from me, shaking his head. "If I thrash, I could knock you across the room. Back up a little."

I scooted my chair back.

Dr. Manscolm started to put the thick leather straps around Bucky's arms, and Bucky laughed humorlessly. "Don't bother. Those things couldn't hold me if I was in a _good_ mood."

Dr. Manscolm merely nodded agreeably, and set about fixing the headpiece on Bucky's head. There were small clamps with soft-looking tips that gripped Bucky's head. Dr. Manscolm turned on several machines surrounding the chair and set some dials. Bucky lay back, gripping the arms of the chair. He kept his eyes open, looking toward the ceiling.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up; it was Steve, giving me a small encouraging smile though his eyes looked as worried as I felt. I covered his hand with my own and gripped it tightly.

Dr. Manscolm said, "Are you ready, Bucky?"

"I'm not going to answer that."

"Okay, I'll assume that's a yes. Now, just to reaffirm: this is not Hydra's machine. I'm not going to remove anything from your memory; this machine is designed to augment and restore memories, a far more delicate procedure. I'll be proceeding slowly, and we can stop if you experience any pain or discomfort."

Bucky laughed again without humor. "Right. I'm sure you will."

"Bucky, I know this is going to sound easier said than done, but try to relax. Everything about this will be easier if you don't fight it."

Bucky took a deep breath and let it out. He didn't look relaxed at all.

My heart was pounding.

Dr. Manscolm typed in a command, and a faint hum started in one of the machines. Bucky gasped, a loud, startled, hollow sound, his entire body tensing. Dr. Manscolm said, "That's the probe, it may be disorienting at first." He kept typing, and Bucky's breath was hissing through clenched teeth. Dr. Manscolm's voice was calm and soothing, and I hated everything about this. I tried to stay relaxed myself, though, taking deep, calm breaths. I wanted the baby to stay put.

"Now I'm going to feed you an image. Let me know when you receive it."

Bucky's hissing breath slowed a little, and his forehead furrowed as though trying to listen for something. His hands were still tightly gripping the chair arms, I wondered whether he would warp the metal.

We waited; it was perhaps two minutes, but it felt like forever.

Bucky suddenly grunted and took another deep breath. "Yes," he said roughly.

"What did you think of, Bucky?"

"Siberia. I can see Belukha Mountain."

Dr. Manscolm let out a breath, and I realized that he was as tense as we were. "Excellent. Now I want you to relax and let your mind drift until it recalls a memory. You don't have to do anything, just breathe. The machine will tell us whether a memory was triggered. We will not record it."

We waited again. I realized I was holding Steve's hand in a death-grip, but he didn't complain or move a muscle.

There was a delicate chiming sound. Dr. Manscolm brightened. "We have a neuronal response! Analyzing..." He typed in a few more commands and a few lines appeared on the monitor, then some sort of a graph. He smiled. "That's a positive. Shutting down." He turned off the machine. I felt like I could breathe again. Dr. Manscolm said, "Bucky, I am going to approach you and remove the headpiece."

I thought it was prudent of him to give the warning before touching Bucky again. Bucky still looked incredibly tense, though his breath wasn't as tight now. Dr. Manscolm carefully pressed a switch on the headpiece that disengaged the soft clamps, releasing Bucky's head as he opened his eyes.

Bucky immediately pushed up from the chair and stood, turning back toward the doctor while simultaneously moving away as though putting himself into a defensive position. I saw that the chair arms were, in fact, a little bit bent now.

Dr. Manscolm regarded him calmly. After a moment, he said, "How do you feel, Bucky?"

Bucky said quietly, "Don't come near me, or I'll punch you so hard they'll be picking pieces of your skull out of the wall later."

There was a flicker of something in Dr. Manscolm's eyes that might have been fear, but I think it was more like worry. He nodded. "Alright. We've set up a rest station behind that curtain; I'd like you to go rest for a few minutes while we set up the next test."

Bucky looked over at the curtained area, and then back to Dr. Manscolm.

Dr. Manscolm said, "We won't begin the next test until you have recovered and are back out here."

I said softly, "Bucky, can I go with you?"

Bucky's head jerked around toward me, and at first his eyes were so cold and distant that it felt like I was looking back at a stranger. Then he blinked a few times, and his eyes warmed. "Jess. Steve."

"Right here, buddy," said Steve.

I stood up, letting go of Steve's hand. "Yes, it's us. May I touch you?"

A flash of something like pain crossed Bucky's face. "Not... yet."

"Do you want to go over behind the curtain?"

He looked at it again. He seemed to be having some trouble gathering his thoughts. "Okay."

Steve and I followed him, a few steps behind, as he went to the curtain and drew it to the side, going inside the little separated space. There were some at least semi-comfortable-looking chairs in here, as well as a table with bottled water, small towels, and some packaged snack foods. I noticed that we were stationed by a wall, and that there was a door to a bathroom just inside the boundary of the curtain. I doubted that was by accident.

Bucky stood still in the center of the space for a moment, looking around aimlessly.

"You want to sit down?" I said hesitantly.

"Sure." He didn't sit.

I looked at Steve worriedly, he gave me the same look. We didn't know what to do, so we waited for a minute or so.

Bucky finally turned back toward us and said, "It wasn't so bad." His expression was perfectly calm, but there were tears running down his cheeks.

My eyes filled up. "Oh god."

Steve cleared his throat. "Not as bad as storming that one Hydra fort with the spikes in the walls, eh pal?"

Bucky squinted as though trying to remember. "We had to blast our way through that one."

"Only to find out they had rigged the perimeter with gas."

Bucky shook his head. "You were the only one unaffected, you jerk." There was a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Hey, I can't help being exceptional."

I could see what was happening; Steve had tossed Bucky a rope, and was slowly, gently pulling him out of the deep, dark pit he was in.

Steve said, "You've always kept up with me, though. Remember that chase through the woods near Warsaw?"

Bucky said, "Or landing on that speeding train."

"What about it? You landed on that thing like a pro."

"I was terrified," said Bucky, now really smiling, though somewhat sadly.

"You didn't let on."

"Didn't want you to think I was chicken."

Steve took a step toward Bucky, his face serious. "I would never, ever think that, Buck. I think you're the bravest man I've ever seen."

"Yeah?" Bucky sniffed once, and seemed to realize he was crying. He shook his head in confusion. "Jesus, what's wrong with me?" He wiped his face with his hands. I went to the table and fetched a towel for him, holding it out at a polite distance. He took it. "Thanks."

Another ghost of a memory flickered in my head. "Would you like some water?"

"Please," he said simply.

I gave it to him, and started to cry. Steve immediately came to me and led me to one of the chairs. "Sit," he ordered. I obediently sat. He looked at Bucky. "You should probably sit down too, pal."

Bucky sat next to me, looking at me with worry in his eyes. "What's wrong?" His voice was still strangely distant. I shook my head, crying too hard to explain. Not that I knew exactly what was wrong myself.

Steve sat down with us. "I think Jessie is just letting off a little steam. Same as you. Maybe we should have a little boxing match." He smiled at Bucky.

Bucky chuckled. "Not sure I'm up for that."

I have never appreciated Steve more than I appreciated him today. He was _wonderful_. It was like he knew exactly what to say and do, while I was completely falling apart. The worst thing was that I didn't know _why_.

Steve gave me a look of pure compassion and said, "Was that what it was like when you watched Hydra work on him before?"

I shook my head. "No," I sniffled. "That was so, so, so much worse, I can't even describe. He used to scream at the top of his voice, and..."

_He used to scream at the top of his voice._

I felt my eyes go wide in pure shock. I think I could feel my hair turning white.

"What is it?" asked Bucky, looking at me with genuine concern and a little confusion.

I looked at him and felt my heart throb hotly in my chest. "Oh my god, Bucky. I remembered something. Something from the past year. I remembered you in that chair."

He blinked, and his eyes seemed to focus on me for the first time, widening. "You remembered?"

I nodded.

Then I apparently I passed out. I didn't feel it; there was simply a skip in time.

I woke up to the sound of two voices, one raging, the other calm.

"I _knew_ it. I _knew_ she shouldn't be here, this was a _terrible_ idea, why did I let her come?"

"Bucky, calm down, this isn't helping anything!"

"I can't, Steve. How could I have been so _stupid_. How could _she_ have been so stupid? And last night, and this morning... what the hell is wrong with us?"

A third voice chimed in. "Well, now, I'm certain that yelling about it is going to speed her recovery considerably!" I recognized that rosy voice anywhere, it was Dr. Javier. "Now you shut up, or I sew your lips together. Jessie, I saw that flutter. Open those pretty eyes and let us know you're okay."

I tried to open my eyelids; they felt strangely heavy. "Mmmph," I said.

"Now now, you're a big girl and you can use actual words. How do you feel?"

I opened my eyes a little; there were painful white lights in the ceiling. "It's bright," I said. Suddenly a hand was shielding my eyes. "That's better. What happened?"

Dr. Javier said sharply, "Bucky, you stay exactly where you are. Jessie, you fainted. I think today's activities were a little bit much for you. Did you feel dizzy or sick beforehand?"

I shook my head a little. "No, it sort of came out of nowhere."

"Well, I want to run some tests to make sure we're not experiencing a recurrence of what happened before. A stretcher is on the way."

"I can carry her," I heard Bucky say.

"What? No, I can walk." I pushed myself up. I didn't feel dizzy, just tired. "Someone help me up."

"Take it slow, now," said Dr. Javier.

I felt two pairs of hands help me stand up; they didn't let go once I was standing. I said, "It's okay. I'm fine."

"You're _not_ fine," growled Bucky, on my left side.

I looked at him, and he had returned; he was entirely there behind his eyes, and his hair was extra-shaggy, apparently he'd been running his hands through it in distress. I smiled at him. "Oh, Bucky. There you are. You had me worried."

He stared at me. "I... you... you?! You worried?! About _ME_?! Are you insane?!"

I started laughing and reached for him. He pulled me into a tight angry hug and huffed a breath against my neck. I said, "I'm sorry."

"This is not going to happen again! We are not doing this... I can't..." He took a deep breath. "I can't do this again, I can't, Jess, please..."

"Okay, okay," I said soothingly. "You're right. I was stupid. We're not going to do this again. I'll be good."

It felt like something had shifted inside me; suddenly all I wanted was for him to take me home and hold me for the next five days or so.

I had _remembered_ something. A small something, but it was something.

Dr. Javier was talking in the background. "No work, it's just not a good idea at this point, in fact I'm going to insist upon bed rest for a couple of days..."

I internally groaned. "Bucky, please tell me you'll keep me company if it comes to that."

"I'm not letting you five feet away from me for the next week," he said sternly.

He is actually four feet away from me right now, watching me write this, occasionally throwing me angry worried glances. I'm trying not to giggle. I really don't find his distress all that funny, it's just the way he keeps looking at me, and his hair still looks like the ruffled feathers of a furious chicken.

Dr. Javier drew some more blood and collected a few other bodily fluids and examined me, and then sent me home and offered to lend Bucky some restraints if it would keep me in bed. I was worried that Bucky might accept the offer, but then the doctor laughed merrily and I figured it had to be some kind of weird medical humor.

We came back home to find Steve and Joe waiting there. I learned later that Dr. Manscolm had contacted Joe at work.

I asked Steve, "Uh, did they continue the tests?"

"Yes," he said shortly. "Once we were sure you were okay."

"That's not important right now," said Bucky.

"Bucky," Joe said, "Let him tell her. Jessie is more than capable of dying of curiosity, I can assure you, so we'd all best play it safe." His voice was annoyed, and I wasn't sure whether he was more annoyed with Bucky or with me.

Steve said, "Whit and Train both used the machine for ten minutes each, and it looks like they were able to record some memories. In particular, Train knew of some Hydra bases that we don't have on record, so we'll need to organize more raiding parties. Guess which base was the first one he mentioned?"

"Siberia?" asked Bucky.

"None other. He knew about the other winter soldiers, too. He said that they're in frozen hibernation, but we'll play it safe and go fully outfitted anyway. And Whit..."

"What did Whit know?" I asked.

"He knew that there was a special program utilized during the 90s by Howard Stark, in which certain kids in schools across the county were identified as potential EID candidates and pre-programmed with test data." Steve paused, and glanced at Bucky, then back to me. "You were one of the candidates, Jessie. Whit seemed to think that was very important, though he couldn't tell us why."

I swallowed. I tried to remember... of course I'd been in the gifted program, and there had been special classes where we played certain games and performed mental exercises, but I didn't know whether any of it was relevant. "I don't remember."

"Apparently you were never told."

"Why would they program EID data into kids?" asked Joe.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other. Bucky said, "I once heard a man say that if you're afraid of getting a rotten apple, you don't go to the barrel, you get it off the tree."

"What if they had a piece of data so sensitive that they absolutely could not risk a spy agency getting their hands on it?" said Steve. "They might use a kid."

"Why wasn't Fury there today?" I asked, feeling suddenly bewildered by all of this.

"He's already in Siberia," said Steve. "And I leave tonight."

"Then you have preparations to make," said Bucky firmly. "Go. We're alright."

"You're okay? You sure?"

"Don't make me say it twice, pal, get out of here."

Steve hugged Bucky and then me and left, and Joe made us some food. I surprised myself by being very hungry. It was strange; aside from passing out, nothing felt wrong with me. I actually felt really good. Strangely good. But my mind keeps wandering as I write.

I tried Dr. Nami's writing project this evening. Didn't get anything comprehensible, but it was interesting... I have such terrible handwriting that when I don't look at my hands, what comes out looks like literal chicken scratches. I think tomorrow I'll try again and write slower and smaller.

Bucky is glaring at me because it's past bedtime. I don't care. I love him so much.

I feel like I love the whole world right now.

Is there something wrong with me? I think there's something wrong with me.


	44. Chapter 44

Wednesday, May 14th, 2014

I had a strange dream last night; I woke up in the darkness trying to remember what I had been dreaming. Something about remembering. Bucky's arms were around me, and I turned a little so that I could look at him in the gray darkness. His breath was deep and even. I had to wake him up, I wasn't sure why. But he needed to be awake.

"Bucky."

His breathing changed. He softly said, "What's up?" and opened one eye.

"Something's wrong."

"What's wrong?" He opened his other eye, squinting at me sleepily.

"Something's wrong with the baby."

"What?" He blinked himself fully awake. "Are you cramping?"

"No."

"Wake up."

"What?"

"Jess, you need to wake up. Come on..."

I opened my eyes to bright morning sunshine. There were halos in my vision, everything seemed distorted. "Wha...?"

I realize the way I just wrote that series of events is completely confusing, but that's exactly how I experienced it. I still wasn't sure I was entirely awake.

"Jess, I think you're running a fever." Bucky put a hand on my forehead. "You've been tossing and saying nonsense words in your sleep. You're burning up. Come on, let's get you to the doctor."

My head felt swimmy and sick, and I was still trying to figure out whether I was awake or dreaming. "Don't I have group today?" I mumbled.

"What? No, I don't think we'll be doing that today. Joe!"

A lot of the next few hours ran together in my head. They took me to the hospital and I could hear Dr. Javier's voice speaking; it hurt my head for some reason. The lights hurt, too.

"... perform a CVS, now this is nothing to worry about..."

"... defects?..."

"... a little early for it, but there's no..."

"... is she going to..."

"... have you noticed any..."

A wave of cramps swept over me and I groaned.

"... Jessie. Jessie, listen to me. I need you to relax..."

I tried to relax. "What's wrong with the baby?" I whispered.

"Oh, he's just a little more active than I would like, and we need to get your fever down..."

I remember a sharp pain in my abdomen, different from the cramps.

When I opened my eyes and they actually focused on something, it was Bucky's face and I was in a hospital room.

"Bucky?"

He took my hand. "Hey there. You scared us."

"What's wrong with the baby?"

"At the moment, we don't know that there is anything wrong, Jess. Dr. Javier thinks you may have another infection, but we can't figure out where."

I took a deep breath. It seemed terribly important that he understand me. "Bucky, there is something wrong."

"What's wrong? Tell me."

"I don't know," I said, my eyes filling with tears. "But the baby is in trouble. Can't you hear her?"

"Hear her?" His eyes widened.

I was speaking with utter conviction; I _felt_ utter conviction, but now I have no idea what I was talking about. I fell back asleep.

I think it was Joe who thought to bring my journal to the hospital with us. They've got my fever down now and I'm awake and sipping at some juice. Bucky is in the chair next to me, pretending to read. I still have this hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach that keeps saying to me, over and over and over again, _There is something wrong with the baby._ I'm trying to ignore it. Apparently they did some kind of a screening test on me to diagnose any genetic issues, and we won't know for a few days whether they've found anything.

I think the Siberia mission is underway. Bucky and Joe and I are on our own with the doctors. I don't know why, but I miss Steve. He would have something reassuring to say. Bucky seems remarkably calm, though. Maybe he's in crisis mode and we'll have a big scene later once everything relaxes.

* * *

Writing in the night now. There's an important conversation that I want to record, it happened after I finished the last part of this entry.

"Bucky," I said, trying not to cry. "Did we hurt the baby?"

"No," he said, closing his book and leaning toward me. "Dr. Javier says we haven't done anything wrong. Apparently your system is in mild distress... god I wish I had your memory for jargon. Okay. Usually the placenta separates the baby's systems from the mother's, so if you're feeling something that's going on with the baby, that means it may be something severe. Dr. Javier thinks there could be some kind of a genetic abnormality. The baby is really active for some reason. He thinks..." Bucky swallowed. "He thinks maybe my genes were damaged by Hydra, and that could result in... defects."

I placed my hands on my belly as tears ran down my face. Bucky took my hand in his. I tried to think clearly. "Is Dr. Manscolm running more tests today?"

"I think everything is on hold until we verify the information we got from Whit and Train."

"When will that happen?"

"After Siberia, like I said." His voice was soothing. "This is nothing you need to be worried about right now."

I noticed that there was a bandaid on the inside of his elbow. "They took your blood."

"They're testing it. They might learn something that could help with the baby."

I leaned back and wiped my face off. "I need something to do; something to think about other than this."

Bucky squeezed my hand. "Want to talk about more travel destinations?"

Something occurred to me. "Actually... I do have something I want to talk to you about."

"Anything."

"Bucky, do you want to marry me?"

He stared at me. "Was that... a proposal?"

"N... uh... um. I just..." I sighed. "I was just thinking about it yesterday for some reason; I don't know what the baby's last name will be."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Does it really matter?"

"That's what I want to know. Does it matter? To you?"

He cleared his throat. "Well... okay, I have thought about it. It didn't seem like a good thing to bring up while your memory was coming back. But I thought about it a few times... before you were captured."

"And what did you think?"

"I thought that things work differently in this day and age, and you're an unusual girl even at the most normal of times, and I had no idea how asking you would go over."

I felt the beginnings of a smile quirking at my lips. "But you wanted to ask? You thought about it?"

He blushed, but held my eyes. "I did want to ask."

I regarded him for a moment. "So ask."

"Right here? Now?"

"Bucky, I have the strangest feeling that circumstances are not necessarily ever going to be appropriate for this conversation. We might as well seize the day."

"I don't have a ring."

I smiled. "And my daddy isn't here with a shotgun, so I guess we'll have to skip all of the usual local customs."

He chuckled, and spent a few moments touching my hand, tracing the lines on my palm, looking at them. Then he looked back into my eyes, his expression serious. "Would you marry me, Jess?"

I have set up my entire life with absolutely no preparation for this question. I never expected to hear it, and the other day's journal entry where I was trying on his last name notwithstanding, I never fantasized about it either. I realized in this moment that I actually did not know my answer. The ridiculousness of my wanting him to ask, without knowing how to answer, struck me, and I started to giggle slightly hysterically. I might still have been feverish.

He looked mildly hurt. "What?"

"I'm sorry," I said in a quavery voice. "I just never saw myself as the marrying type. Why do you want to marry me?"

He shrugged. "I'm hardly the marrying type either. That's why I haven't asked until now. But in answer to your question... in early life, I always thought I'd get married, I always thought I'd have kids. Then I spent seventy years with nothing but death and fear and hate. Then you showed up, and things were better, and I thought, 'This is as good as it's going to get.' Then you and Steve rescued me, and I started to recover, and I thought, 'I never guessed life could be this good again, but don't expect anything more.' Then you and I realized we loved each other, and I thought, 'This is more than I ever had any right to expect, but it's good, so I'll just enjoy it while it lasts.' Now we're making a family. And something has occurred to me. You know what occurred to me?"

"What's that?"

"It's entirely possible that things are just going to get better and better, just as long as I keep you around." He smiled sweetly at me. "Forgive me if I want the assurance of a promise that you won't ever leave me."

My heart felt warm. I said, "Bucky, I promise that I won't ever leave you."

"And does that mean you'll marry me?"

"I think it does, yes."

We looked at each other for a long moment, and then he kissed my hand. "Good. Jess?"

"What?"

"You need to rest now."

I realized I was exhausted, and wondered how much of it might have to do with the conversation. "I guess we can work out the details later."

"Yes, later."

I lay back and closed my eyes.

I woke up and the room was dimly lit with some small light panels on the wall behind Bucky's head. He seemed to be lightly dozing in his chair. The hospital has a sort of eerie feeling at night; it's quiet, but I can hear the sounds of soft beeping and footsteps down the hallway. The door is slightly open and more dim light is coming in.

A nurse came in a little while after I woke up; she quietly introduced herself and took my blood pressure and my temperature and a small blood sample from my IV. Bucky woke up. "What's going on?"

"Just taking vitals, Mr. Barnes," said the nurse with a trace of irritation. I have the feeling that he's probably been pestering the nurses.

"She was sleeping, is that really necessary?"

"It's okay, Bucky," I said. "I woke up before she came in."

Everything felt slightly dreamlike as the nurse worked on me, and then after she left, I looked over and saw that Bucky had dozed off again. I lay back and closed my eyes, trying to rest, but it's not going to happen any time soon, so I'm writing.

I'm so worried right now, about the baby. Little Joey, whose tiny heart is fluttering wildly as she tries to survive. I keep thinking about what kind of child would come from Bucky and me, and the only conclusion I can come to is that she's probably one hell of a survivor.

Prove me right, Joey.


	45. Chapter 45

Thursday, May 15th, 2014

Symptoms: random fits of euphoria or tears, dizziness, random brief spells of fever, cramps, spotting, fatigue, and my blood pressure has been different every single hour over the past twenty hours. Fear.

I've never felt this kind of fear before. It's almost like a big sore patch in my brain; every time I touch it, I veer away and try not to think about it. I can barely write about it.

Visitors today: Steve, Joe, and Dr. Manscolm. Bucky hasn't left my side. I'm sure he needs a shower by now; I feel like I could use one myself.

Steve was the first visitor. He didn't stay long; he seemed tired. So the Siberia mission is finished, and went off so easily that Steve was actually a little troubled. It seems that Train's intelligence was confirmed; the other super soldiers were there, all of them in hibernation. They've been collected for study. I wanted to ask why they weren't just killed, but I guess I'm glad that SHIELD isn't in the business of shooting defenseless popsicles. I'm not sure I like it that they're still alive.

Then again, they're people, just like Bucky. How much agency did they have in what happened to them?

Mostly, Steve wanted to know how I was doing. We gave him what little information we had.

"Is there anything I can do, anything I can bring you?"

I smiled at him. "Well... I think Bucky may need a ring." I felt shy about telling him, but I also felt that he would be hurt if he weren't one of the first people to know.

"A ring?" Steve looked puzzled.

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, and then looked up at Steve. "Jess and I have decided to make... things... kind of permanent."

Steve looked at Bucky, and then back to me, and he said, "Isn't marriage kind of serious?"

I felt confused until I caught the twinkle in his eye. I remembered our conversation in the notebook. "Well, we're having a baby, so I figure this relationship could go on to the next level."

"Entirely her idea," said Bucky.

"Was it?" Steve asked Bucky with a small smile.

"Well, what do you think, pal? Time for me to settle down yet?"

"Past time, consider you're nearly a 100 years old," said Steve. "You sure you want this senior citizen, Jessie?"

"Completely sure, unfortunately."

Steve said, "Then congratulations."

Bucky stood up, looking a little uncomfortable. Steve pulled him into a rough hug; it looked like reassurance.

"My only concern is how on earth Bucky and I can be married while he still insists on living with you," I said to Steve, grinning.

"Does he?" Steve pulled out of the hug, looking surprised at Bucky.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Living arrangements can be decided later."

I nodded. "Yeah, first we have to decide flower arrangements, catering..."

Bucky and Steve gave me identical looks of dismay.

I smiled. "Come on, guys, do I look like the big fancy wedding type? We could do it right here for all I care."

"But you should have a ring," said Steve admonishingly.

Bucky winced. "Yeah, I should have planned better for Jess asking me to marry her..."

"Hey, you asked me!" I said.

"You asked me first."

Steve shook his head. "This will be a harmonious union."

We chatted for a little while longer, and then Steve had to leave to go sleep off the mission. I said, "Promise you'll come back tomorrow?"

He seemed pleased by the request; to my surprise, he leaned down and kissed my forehead. "I think I can manage that."

Joe showed up at around 2, and we gave him the news which he took with excessively fake surprise. He squinted up and down at Bucky and said, "Hmmmmm. You'll do. But don't fuck up."

Dr. Manscolm appeared before we could address that little exchange in too much depth, and I got the chance to introduce him to my brother; I was happy to see that Joe was willing to be more polite to Dr. Manscolm than Bucky was. Dr. Manscolm looked exhausted and worn. I know that no progress is being made with Nimrod. Based upon what I've seen of him, he's only ever exhausted by waiting and inactivity rather than by work. I can understand that, I used to be the same way.

Their visit was uneventful. They just wanted to know how I and the baby were doing, and when Bucky gently suggested that I needed rest, they both left. Joe said, "I'll be back tonight, big guy, so I can spell you and you can go get some real sleep."

Bucky said, "I don't need to sleep."

"I'm sorry, did that sound like a suggestion? It wasn't. I'll see you at nine."

...

I don't actually want to write this: There was another visitor today. It happened around 4pm.

Tony Stark stopped by the room.

I still get a shiver thinking about it.

I guess after the mission was over, he came back here instead of going back home, and I can count on one finger the probable reasons why.

Just before it happened, Bucky was holding my hand in his left, and gently rubbing my belly with his right while we talked about what it would be like when the baby got here. Bucky's back was to the door.

"Ever change a diaper before?" I said.

"Nope. You?"

"Never. I'm pretty sure we'll screw it up."

He smiled and laid his head down on the bed. I stroked his hair gently, knowing he had to be exhausted. Those hospital chairs are really not great for sleeping in.

A shadow paused in the doorway. I glanced at it and felt a cold chill. Then he stepped into the light, and I recognized his face. I don't think there's anybody anywhere who doesn't know that face. But I've only ever seen his public persona, the broad smirk and cool shades, the devil-may-care attitude. In this moment, his eyes were uncovered and fierce, and his lips were thin and pressed tightly together, his eyebrows furrowed heavily. He focused a look of absolute loathing on Bucky's back.

I don't know why I didn't alert Bucky; it was like some kind of animal instinct awoke in me and told me to keep still and quiet. I kept stroking Bucky's hair, my hand steady and unfaltering, and I looked at Stark.

His eyes focused on my face.

Bucky's right hand was still on my belly; I covered it with my own and tried my best to speak to Stark with my eyes. _Please don't take my baby's father away from me._

Stark's eyes filled with a deep pain as he looked at me.

I felt the desperate injustice of the situation he was faced with, but I had no choice but to continue to plead with him with my eyes. _Please. I can't do this without him. Please._

He left. He had probably been here no longer than thirty seconds, but it felt like I'd just been through a wrestling match.

Bucky lifted his head and looked behind him, then at me. "Was someone just here?"

"Just a nurse looking in on us," I said softly. "I think it's time for me to sleep some more. Will you keep hold of my hand?"

"Of course."

It was a gesture of anxiety on my part, and perhaps foolishness, but I felt that if I fell asleep with his hand in mine, I would wake up if something happened to him.

I have no idea how to protect him. I feel desperately powerless.

I slept for a couple of hours, then woke up and tried Dr. Nami's writing experiment. This time I tried to write slowly and carefully, making obvious spaces between words.

The result was mostly more chicken scratching, but I got a few words and phrases:

retreat  
atavistic  
stabilized

No idea what any of it means. I may show it to someone tomorrow, I don't want to try to have any deep conversations right now. Joe will be here in a couple more hours. I'm going to try to eat, though I don't feel hungry, and that scares me more than anything, because it's been weeks since I haven't felt hungry.

When Joe gets here, Bucky is going to argue with him about leaving the hospital. I don't know what to do. If Bucky leaves here, Stark could be waiting for him. I don't know whether to bank more on Bucky's ability to stay in the shadows or Stark's abilities to find someone. And Bucky does need a shower and some real sleep.

I wish I knew what to do.


	46. Chapter 46

Friday, May 16th, 2014

Against my better judgment, I let Joe convince Bucky to leave without my saying a word. Bucky looked terrible; he needed to rest. I had to trust that Steve was right, that Stark wouldn't do anything rash.

As it turned out, that was the right decision, though not for the reason I thought.

Stark came again in the night.

It was around 1am. I had woken up because one of the nurses was there again, and Joe didn't wake up at all; Joe is one of the heavier sleepers I know, for which I envy him.

The nurse left, and Stark walked into the room about a minute later. He went to the desk at the side of the room, picked up the small chair there and brought it to my bedside, and sat down.

I watched him silently. Joe sighed in his sleep, but didn't move.

Stark's face was still creased with pain and perhaps weariness, but he didn't look agitated. He did look determined. He said, softly, "I understand you wanted to see me."

I nodded, unsure how to begin.

"State your case, then." His speech was clipped and quick, and I could feel a deadly energy behind it.

"My case?"

"Your case for Barnes's life."

I took a deep breath. "Meaning you want to kill him."

"He deserves to die, or at least sit in a prison until he turns into a fossil. But there are extenuating circumstances here. You, for one. And then there's Hydra's little Grow Your Own Assassin program, just add water... and then there's Steve, who seems willing to compromise his own formerly stainless steel principles on Barnes's behalf. Fury vouches for him, so does Dr. Manscolm. The number of people willing to throw themselves in front of a bus for this man could start their own bowling club, so I have to know, and you seem the best person to ask: why? What is it that makes him so special?"

I've spent no shortage of time recently among people smarter than I am, but Tony Stark is on a whole different level of genius from what I'm accustomed to. I felt very much out of my depth. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought about Bucky: who he was. What he was made of. Recall and synthesis of facts; wasn't that supposed to be what my brain was best at?

I opened my eyes and said, "Well, first of all, there's the person Bucky Barnes is. Not what Hydra turned him into, but who he really is."

"And who is that?"

"Well, what would it take to be the best friend of Steve Rogers? And that was before Captain America. It was back when Steve was short, weak, bullied. Not a part of the popular crowd, right? Nobody important, nobody who would ever make a difference in this world. How many friends do you think Steve had? What kind of a person would look at Steve back then, and see the same qualities you and I see right now?"

Stark thought about it for a moment and said, "Not me."

"Not me either," I admitted. "But Bucky was that kind of a person. He was Steve's friend, maybe his only friend. And he didn't have to be; Bucky was handsome, charming, strong, he could have had any friend he wanted. He had all of those qualities, and still had compassion for Steve's problems. Where did that come from?" I waited; Stark said nothing. I said, "Bucky was just a really good person, from the beginning."

A machine in the corner of the room clicked quietly, and Stark's eyes glanced at it, and back to me. He nodded slowly. "That's who he _used_ to be."

"When I first met him, he was under Hydra's control." I swallowed hard, trying to remember what I could from the notebook. "They tortured him, almost constantly. I don't know if I can describe what it was like; they kept him frozen, and when they woke him up, it was to pain and fear and confusion, without friends, without a self, without even a name." My eyes were welling up. I tried to keep my voice steady. "And still little parts of him would peek out at times, when he was with me. He was still brave and strong and compassionate. I... fell in love with him, just from those tiny pieces of his real self that I could see." It almost felt as though I were remembering it.

Stark's eyes were still coldly analytical. "Then what happened?"

"They sent him to kill me and Steve. He didn't do it. Steve and I rescued him and took him to a quiet place to recover; Bucky spent the first few days just fighting with himself to keep himself from killing us. He fought it, and he won."

Stark leaned forward. "Why didn't he fight it before then?"

"He did," I said firmly. "He fought everything they did to him. The difference was that before then, he had no help, and no hope. None at all. He was completely alone. I think that if his brain had been allowed to heal for more than a few days... but they never gave him that much time. They tore his mind to pieces, constantly. He didn't even have the option to kill himself. He was never in his right mind."

"So why not kill himself now?"

I suppressed a surge of anger. "Because when he woke up, he was with two people who loved him, and he wouldn't do that to us. But I think he's thought about it."

Stark considered this. "And now?"

"Now." I swallowed around a lump in my throat. "Now I'm carrying his little girl. Her name is going to be Joey. And she needs her father. I need him, too. I... can't live without him. I can't go back to the way things were before I met him." I wiped away another tear, they were falling fast now, but my voice was still steady. "I used to be cold as ice, nothing but ambition and work, to be honest. I learned how to love because of Bucky Barnes. I lost my memory a few months ago, and I reverted back to who I used to be, and then I fell in love with him all over again. Twice, he turned me into a different person. Just because of who he is."

Stark tilted his head. "Are you sure you needed to be changed? There's nothing wrong with ambition and work."

"It was wrong for me. I don't think I was really meant to so... hard inside. I wasn't that way when I was little."

"What happened?"

"I lost my parents when I was fifteen."

Stark's eyes, which had been coldly calculating up until now, suddenly filled with pain again. His voice had an edge on it. "I was twenty-one when mine were murdered."

"I know," I said softly. "I'm so sorry." And then I was crying and unable to speak. I hoped I'd said enough.

Stark sat quietly and let me wind down a little. Then he said, "You can't judge a man by the character of those who love him. Just look at me." And one side of his mouth quirked up.

I shook my head. "Your character is remarkable."

"How would you know?"

"Because you haven't killed him yet."

"Yet," he emphasized, and then he sighed and rubbed his forehead as though he were incredibly tired, and I suspect he probably was.

On impulse, I said, "You don't really want to kill him."

"No, I don't. But there must be a redress for my parents."

"No," I said. "For you. Because you're the one who suffered the most from them being taken away."

He nodded. "You're absolutely right. Does that make me selfish?"

"No. But if you take Bucky away, the one who suffers the most will be our child."

He studied me for a moment. "I understand you're experiencing some complications."

I nodded painfully. "I think she's in trouble right now." Another impulse struck me. "I could use your help."

"My help?" That took him by surprise.

"You may be the smartest man on earth. Your father managed to duplicate, or even better, the super soldier serum. You can do it, too. If you can do that, maybe you can figure out what's wrong with my baby. I think it has something to do with Bucky's modifications."

His eyes hardened, and for a moment I was afraid I'd gone too far.

"Jessie?" It was Joe. He was awake and staring sleepily at Stark.

I gave Joe a weak smile. "Wake up, Joe, we're in the presence of a celebrity. This is Tony Stark. Mr. Stark, this is my brother Joe."

"Oh, you must call me Tony," said Stark a little sardonically.

Joe sat up hastily, rubbing his eyes. "Wait a minute... hey." His eyes filled with fear. "Are you here to do anything to Jessie?"

"No," said Stark. "I'm just here to get a few facts straight. I'm sorry for harassing your poor sister."

I nearly said something sarcastic, but bit my lip. I'm getting better.

"And do you have the facts you need?" Joe's protective older brother persona was coming out, I could practically see his hackles raised. "Because she needs rest."

"I'm missing one key piece of information, and then I'll go." Stark turned back to me. "If it were up to Barnes and Barnes alone, what do you think he would do about this situation?"

"I don't know. I don't think he wants to die. He's fought too hard to stay alive. But he does believe he should suffer."

"What do you believe?"

"I believe that he's suffered more than just about any human alive, and I think that's enough," I said firmly.

Stark held my eyes for a moment. I didn't blink. Neither did he.

Finally, he said, "I think I have what I needed to know. Thank you, Jessie."

"You're welcome, Tony."

He stood up, and his eyes softened a little. "So her name is Joey?"

I nodded. "And she's going to have blue eyes. If she's born at all." I managed to keep my voice steady.

He nodded. "Let's do what we can to make sure that happens, then. I do have a thing for blue eyes."

I half-smiled. "Me too."

He turned on his heel and left, his step slow and weary.

I lay back on the pillow, exhausted. I closed my eyes. Tears began to seep out.

Joe took my hand. "Oh god, Jessie, I'm so sorry I didn't wake up before. What did he say to you?"

I shook my head. "Nothing bad. He just wanted to know more about Bucky before he decides what to do about him." I sniffed and blew my nose.

"Jesus." Joe stroked my hair. "What do you think he's going to do? Should we call Bucky?"

"Bucky won't carry a phone," I said tiredly. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I don't think Stark's going to kill him now."

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired, but not dizzy or sick. Am I warm?"

Joe felt my forehead. "No."

I nodded. "Well, then, I need a bowl."

"Why?"

"Because I need to throw up."

After that, I slept fitfully until morning. A part of it was just being at the hospital; it baffles me that people go to the hospital to recuperate from things, given that it's such a difficult place to get any sleep. Another part of it was Bucky's absence. Joe's presence was reassuring, but he wasn't Bucky.

Bucky returned at 7am, looking as though he hadn't slept at all. In fact, he looked worse than he had before he'd left, though his clothing was clean. I was dozing when he walked in, and woke up immediately. "Bucky. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Please don't get into the habit of lying to me," I said, sadly.

He took my hand and kissed it. "I'm sorry. It was a rough night, but I don't want you to worry, I'm fine."

"What happened?"

He sighed. "I went back to the apartment and showered and changed, and when I started back to the hospital, someone was following me, and it wasn't Fury's detail. My shadow had disappeared. I spent half the night trying to catch the new one. I never did; he finally disappeared at around 4am. I came back here, checked on you and Joe, then spent the rest of the morning patrolling the grounds."

I swallowed. "Oh dear."

He looked closely at me. "Okay, what don't I know?"

I paused, not sure how much to tell him.

Bucky smiled grimly. "Jess, please don't get into the habit of lying to me, either."

Damn. "It was Stark," I said. "He found a way to get you out of the way for a few hours so that he could talk to me."

Bucky's eyes went wide, and he stood up. "Where is he?"

"Bucky, please. He only wanted to talk, that's all. He didn't hurt me, and that was late last night, he's long gone now."

Bucky was breathing hard. "He could have--"

"He _didn't_ ," I said firmly. "And he's going to try to help the baby. Please sit down."

Bucky didn't sit. He shook his head in confusion. "Help? Why?"

I shrugged. "Because I asked."

"What's going on?" Joe was waking up again. "Oh hey there, big guy."

"Hi Joe," Bucky said weakly.

Joe narrowed his eyes and yawned. "You didn't sleep a wink, did you? I don't know why I even bother."

"I don't sleep because every time I let down my guard for ten seconds, something bad happens!" Bucky said, his voice rising. His hands were clenched into fists.

"Which is why we work together as a team," said Fury, who was standing in the doorway. "You may have been otherwise occupied, but that doesn't mean there weren't eyes on this room."

Bucky whirled around. "Are you saying you knew he was here?"

"I knew it was likely he would pay Agent Couring a visit. I also know Tony Stark well enough to know he had no intention of hurting her, and every intention of listening to her. You're the one he's angry at, Barnes." Fury stepped inside. "How are you doing, Jessie?"

It was the first time he'd ever used my given name; I wondered if there was some kind of significance to that. I said, "I'm doing better than I was yesterday. Bucky, please sit down. You're starting to stress me out." It was a dirty card to play, but it was also kind of true.

He gave me a despairing look and slowly sat down, every muscle in his body rigid.

I reached for his hand and he gave it to me. It was shaking. I knew that he was thinking that yet again he had failed to protect me, and I tried to think of something to say that would shift that conclusion. I placed his hand on my belly. "Bucky, this was one instance where having you with us would have been more dangerous than having you gone."

He looked at me and then his eyes darted around the room, searching. "I can't..." he whispered.

"Stand down, Barnes," said Fury firmly. He put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "You're not working alone here. The situation is under control."

Bucky looked up at him with lost eyes. "You allowed this to happen."

"It was a delicate situation, but I trusted Agent Couring to handle it, and she did." Fury looked at me with approval.

I nodded nervously. I still wasn't sure that I'd fixed the situation, but perhaps I had done as well as anybody could have. "Is there another reason you're here, sir?"

"Unfortunately yes," said Fury. "An attempt was made on the life of Samuel Trainor."

"Train?" I asked, horrified. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, but his handler is currently in critical condition. I'm here to let you know that now that I have confirmation that the former EIDs are in immediate danger, they've all been moved to the Triskelion and placed under guard."

"I'm guessing they weren't too happy about that," I said.

"You guess correctly, but I'm less concerned with their happiness than I am with their safety. Agent Couring, you're safe here, but I'm afraid you won't be able to go back home for a while, even if Dr. Javier discharges you. Sergeant Barnes, Mr. Couring, you're both to stay on the grounds as well. I have temporary quarters set up for you."

There was a polite knock on the open door, and Bucky leapt to his feet again, turning to look.

Steve raised his eyebrows. "Whoa there, Buck. It's just me." He looked at Fury and said, "Reporting as suggested."

"Excellent timing," said Fury. He turned to Joe. "You got some sleep last night?"

Joe nodded, his face slightly red. "Yes, I'm sorry, but I did."

"Good. As an emergency measure, I've asked the staff to move an extra bunk in here, and Barnes, I would encourage you to get some sleep. Rogers is here to stand guard."

Bucky looked at Fury and Steve, back and forth. Steve's expression firmed into a determined look that I'd seen before, and I knew that Bucky wasn't going to win this fight. I think Bucky knew it, too. At any rate, he didn't argue... and perhaps that was evidence of just how tired he was.

After Fury left, the nurses moved the desk out of the room and brought in an extra bed. I asked them to lower the blinds and the lights, dimming the room.

When Steve took Bucky's hand and led him to the bed, Bucky didn't say a word. He just looked at Steve with eyes full of pain.

Steve said, almost too quietly to be heard, "Do you trust me, Buck?"

Bucky hesitated, and then nodded slightly.

"Then go to sleep, buddy. Nothing's going to hurt Jessie or anybody else while I'm here."

Bucky said something I couldn't hear, but his eyes said it clearly enough: _I can't do this anymore._

Steve hugged him and Bucky clung to him in a near-collapse, his knees buckling. Steve held him up and helped him into the bed. Bucky closed his eyes before he was even fully down.

Steve took Bucky's boots off and covered him with a blanket, and that's when I started to cry again. Steve sat down beside Bucky's bed.

"Hush, he'll be fine," said Joe softly, touching my forehead. "Don't get all worked up."

"By the time the baby gets here, there will be nothing left of him," I whispered.

"Don't think like that. We'll get him back on his feet. He just needs to rest, which is what you need to do."

My stomach clenched in a way that was surprisingly familiar. "I'm hungry," I said.

Joe looked delighted. "Excellent! I'll be right back then."

I ate some mashed potatoes and something that looked like roast beef (you can't be sure in a hospital) and it stayed down. Then I obediently lay back and rested, keeping one hand on the small roundness on my abdomen, mentally talking to the baby. _We're almost to the second trimester, Joey. You've made it this far. The hard part is nearly over. Just stick with me for a little bit longer, okay?_

Bucky slept for nearly twelve hours. Steve sat beside him or patrolled the outside hallway the entire time. It was Joe who made sure that everybody ate.

I passed the time calmly: chatting quietly with Joe, eating, obediently staying hydrated (and having to pee every half hour as a result), doing another crossword puzzle, doing more free-association writing. Nothing seemed terribly significant when I tried it this time, except for one word: _key_. Didn't I have a dream about a key at one point?

I just checked earlier in this journal, and yes I did. April 12th, I had a dream featuring the word "key". Still no idea what it might mean.

At 7pm, Bucky woke up and immediately said, "Jess!" as though trying to find me.

"I'm right here," I said. "Everything is fine."

He struggled to get up, and fell back to the bed with a grunt.

Steve said, "Whoa there, pal, take it slow." He helped Bucky sit up and then slowly stand. They made their way to my bed, slowly.

Joe got up and Bucky sat down in the chair, taking my hand. "How do you feel?"

"Just fine," I said, trying to smile. "Worried about you, honestly." Bucky's face was very pale, and he still looked shaky and exhausted.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

I glared at him. "You're obviously not fine. In fact, you're so very much not fine that I'm starting to think that you may actually be sick, as strange as that sounds."

Bucky shook his head again. "I'm not sick. But I'm more tired than I should be. I think it's the memories."

"What memories?" asked Steve.

"Since I used Nimrod," Bucky said wearily, "the memories have been coming back more quickly than before. It's a lot to take in."

"What are you remembering?" I asked.

Bucky looked at me. "Death."

I knew he wouldn't talk about it. I'm pretty sure that if he did, it probably wouldn't help anyway.

It's funny, but the thing I wish most right now is that Bucky and I could have sex. It seems to be the one thing that breaks through his unhappiness, no matter what, and makes him think differently.

And it would be comforting.

Oh, well.


	47. Chapter 47

Saturday, May 17th, 2014

Cramps and dizziness were bad today, and my light fever returned.

Bucky woke up early this morning, took up the job of room guard, and passed the extra bunk over to Steve, who promptly went to sleep with a speed I admire and envy. Maybe that's a military thing. Bucky has spent most of the first half of the day by my side. I asked him to tell me about growing up with Steve, partially because I wanted to know, and partially because I thought it would be a pleasant thing for him to remember. He did smile a fair amount while telling me about their childhood. Man, those two were scamps. I hope Joey takes after me, I was far better-behaved than Bucky was.

We went to see Dr. Javier mid-morning. The tests came back negative for all the usual genetic disorders, and I don't know why I felt so incredibly distraught afterward, because I already knew that whatever was wrong, it wouldn't be something we have a name for. Except one thing: we know that she's becoming anemic. It's not bad yet, but the fact that it didn't show up until now means... well. I don't think Dr. Javier knows what it means.

We did another ultrasound. I could see Joey moving; the movement was slight, but all I could imagine was that she was thrashing with distress. I remember what I said to Bucky the other day: "Can you hear her?" I feel like I can hear her crying out for help, and I am absolutely helpless to do anything for her. Bucky held both of my hands as I watched and cried, and he looked as miserably helpless as I felt.

Dr. Javier tried to reassure us, but to his credit, he didn't try too hard. He knows Bucky and I aren't idiots. When he watched Joey on the screen, his eyes were more serious than I've ever seen them.

The doctor left me with this: "This baby is very determined to live, Jessie. Try to stay positive."

After the ultrasound, we returned to the room, and without a word, Bucky climbed into bed with me and wrapped me tightly in his arms; I closed my eyes and tried to recall how safe I always feel when he holds me that way. Some of that feeling came to me, but I was still so scared.

It was a welcome distraction when I got a call from Yumiko an hour later. Bucky was patrolling the hallway at that point, and I was trying to sleep and failing when the phone rang. I was surprised that it was her; I would have expected a call from Whit or Train.

Yumiko barely waited for me to say hello before she was speaking animatedly and quickly. I recognized the tone of her voice; she'd just solved a puzzle, and a big one. "Jessie, we found it. It took four days but we found it."

"Slow down, you found what?"

"We're all here at the office. I know you can't come in, but I wanted to contact you ASAP because I know you may be able to put the final piece in place..."

"What's going on?"

She paused to breathe. "Even with corroboration this is going to be hard to say."

"I understand. I hope you called Fury about whatever it is before you called me."

"It concerns you more than him, but DeSilva's probably briefing him as we speak."

That stunned me. "Is it... Bucky?"

"Yes and no. It's more to do with the baby."

I was confused. "You guys have been researching the baby?"

"We've been researching the Winter Soldier."

I sat up. "What have you found out?"

"It was buried beneath ten security protocols that Samuel fortunately happened to have the codes for, but then he was prevented from showing us until DeSilva approved it, and Whit suggested we contact you... Jessie, there was..." She stopped, and when she started again, her speech was halting. "There was more... than one serum... for the Winter Soldier. There's a reason why the additional soldiers were kept frozen. There's a reason why Bucky is the only one that worked. Train may know more, but he can't say any of it yet."

I was wide awake now. "What more can you tell me?"

"DeSilva is bringing the files to Dr. Javier, he'll be able to understand it all. There's... it's a... it stabilizes. There was... a..."

"Okay," I said. "There was a serum that created him, and an additional stabilizing serum?"

"He was actually created by... I can't. It's in the files. But there was a whole series."

"Yumiko, why is this so difficult for you to say? Do you have vaulted data on this?"

"Evidently, though I didn't know it before."

I felt my eyes go wide. "So some of what was done to him was done to him by SHIELD?"

"No... more like... I can't explain." Her voice was tight and frustrated. "But we're all in this, not just Whit and Train."

"It wouldn't surprise me if they got to you without your knowing about it," I said. "They were pretty insidious; I got roped in without the least idea of who they really were. And by the time I knew, I was in so deep that..." I broke off, feeling a chill. "I remembered that."

"You remembered something?"

"Yeah, it's from last year, and I... who was it? Some guy... he had a strange name. I can see his face. Thirty! I can remember his face!"

"Who is Thirty?"

"Someone who is hopefully dead and gone," I said grimly.

"Well, that's a shame, because we need more data."

I pressed my lips together. "Everything you need is inside my head, I would be willing to bet my life on it." I may end up doing just that.

After a moment of silence, she said a little awkwardly, "So... how are you?"

"Still alive. So's the baby. How are you guys faring?"

"Fury's got us living in shoe boxes," she said sourly.

"Well, I'm sure it's for your own safety."

"Jessie, do me two favors. First, don't patronize me. Second, finish our research so we can kill Hydra and get the hell out of here."

I was caught between annoyance and amusement. I decided on amusement. "I'll do my best."

I hung up and said, "Bucky?"

It took him a few seconds to get back to the room, so I have no idea how far away he was... I think we should really test his hearing one of these days to see just how good it is. He came to my bed and sat down. "Hey."

"How much do you know about how you were created?"

He looked puzzled. "Not much. They didn't exactly brief me on the process."

"Do you know how many different serums you were given?"

He shook his head. "No idea. I know there was more than one; I would wake up and feel... different. But I never knew what was in them."

I sighed. "Damn."

"What's up? Why are you worrying about this?"

I said, "Yumiko just called me. Apparently they've found files on what was done to you, and there was more than one serum. It's related to the reason why the other soldiers were kept frozen. From what she told me, I'm going to guess that they're unstable, somehow. But you were given some kind of a stabilizer." He looked confused. I said, "Bucky, this is about the baby. If we can figure out what stabilized you... maybe that's what the baby needs. What can you remember?"

His eyebrows lowered and he seemed to search inside himself. "Well, the first treatment I was ever given by Zola wasn't actually a serum at all."

"What was it?"

"It was energy from the Tesseract."

I blinked. "You... it... are you kidding me?"

He half-smiled at me. "You probably used to know that."

"I guess I probably did. But isn't the Tesseract..."

"It was lost when Red Skull died, and after that... Steve knows more about it."

We woke Steve up, and he was able to tell us that Howard Stark recovered the Tesseract and experimented on it, but never managed to harness the energy inside it. Then there was the whole debacle with Loki which I did know something about, and the decision to return it to Asgard, which I didn't.

"Can we get it back?" I said.

"It's not really safe on Earth," said Steve. "Besides... what would we do with it? Nobody was ever able to get it to work after the Red Skull."

I sighed. "This just doesn't make any sense. Both of you were enhanced back in the forties. So basically, scientists back then were able to do things we haven't been able to duplicate since, even with all our progress? And Steve, when Dr. Erskine came up with his serum, he didn't even have the Tesseract to work from. How the hell did he do it?"

Steve said, thoughtfully, "You know, I suspect it's been a really long time since they stopped trying to reverse-engineer Dr. Erskine's formula. Maybe it's time to try again."

I don't think anybody really knows how to get in direct touch with a doctor. It's simply not done, that I know of, not even by super-people. So Steve called Fury to ask about getting experimented upon. And apparently Fury can directly contact anybody he damn well wants to, because there was a med tech taking Steve's blood within half an hour of the call.

After that... well. Steve went back to sleep, and Bucky was relieved by Joe, who brought me fresh fruit and a small teddy bear from the gift shop downstairs ("Because I figured with Bruno gone you might need a new pummeling target, and Bucky's looking a little weak right now so you can't punch him."). It made me smile. The teddy bear is really too small to give a good beating to. I've settled for placing it by my belly so that it can keep Joey company.

I do things like this, and wonder who the hell I am these days.

But... you know what?

I think I am that girl from the notebook. All that passion, all that emotion, all that desire and fear and mercurial action. I think I care about Bucky and Steve the way that she did. I think that I'm as worried for this baby as she would be.

Maybe I should stop thinking of her and my new self as a different person. Maybe it's just all me. I had this much inside of me my entire life, just waiting for Bucky to draw it out.

Maybe I was as lucky to find him as he was to find me.

I did my free-association writing a little while ago, it seemed like just random words. I'm still hopeful about my returned memory from earlier, though. Maybe I don't need to do tricks anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have FINALLY FINISHED WRITING THIS and it's one of the longest things I've ever written. *collapses* Whew!


	48. Chapter 48

Sunday, May 18th, 2014

It feels like life has become nothing but an endless sea of anxious boredom interrupted by small moments of either relief or acute terror. Maybe that's how it is for everybody who spends longer than a day in the hospital.

I was moody this morning. I desperately need exercise, but I'm to remain glued to this bed (save bathroom breaks) until we figure out Joey's issues and intentions. The inactivity and helplessness are making me snarly, but I'm also experiencing those weird moments of euphoria here and there, so it's anybody's guess at any given time how I'm going to feel or what I'm going to say (I don't know until I hear it come out of my mouth). At one point this morning, I tilted my head at Bucky and said, sweetly, "I love you so much right now, but I'm probably going to strangle you for doing this to me once it's all over."

To my surprise, he leaned forward and took my hand and kissed it, smiling, and said, "Darling, I know _exactly_ how you feel."

I started giggling at that. Then a few minutes later I was crying. Forget the girl from the notebook; the person I am right now is fucking _insane_ and I have no idea who she is.

Fury came by to brief us on what the EIDs found concerning the various serums, and I'm thinking that most of what we talked about should probably not be written down. I'll try to summarize it, though:

We still don't have Howard Stark's formula, but we do have Hydra's findings. Stark's serum was not finished. He had just reached the point where it could be tested on human subjects, and hadn't done so yet, so it was Hydra who found out the issues. The serum had unstable effects in several ways; it wasn't permanent (a few months of enhanced abilities at most), it caused random bursts of neurochemicals (in other words, violent mood swings, and why does _that_ sound familiar), and the serum itself started to break down after about a week. So Hydra didn't have much time to try to analyze it. They had to use it almost immediately.

All of that said, his formula wasn't based upon the Tesseract, so it had to be based upon reverse-engineering from Dr. Erskine's formula. If he'd had more of Steve's blood to work with, perhaps he could have stabilized it, and I don't know whether that's a good or a bad thing. Not every willing soldier is a Steve Rogers.

Fury had another piece of information that terrified me: tests on the other winter soldiers (I didn't ask the circumstances of said tests because I really didn't want to know) had shown that they were all slightly anemic.

"So you've got two scientists back in the forties, probably equally brilliant: Howard Stark and Arnim Zola, both trying to duplicate Dr. Erskine," said Steve. "Stark had my blood samples to work from, and Zola had the Red Skull. The serum used on the Red Skull was a lot like the one used on me, so the enhancements Bucky was given had to be close to what mine were... but with something additional. For Bucky it was the Tesseract. For me... we don't know."

"And then Zola kept me," said Bucky. "So he had an unending supply of my blood to use to create new serums, and the perfect subject to test them on."

Fury cleared his throat. "There's a question we need answered, and I don't see how it's going to be answered any time soon. Did the continuing series of treatments stabilize you, or was it the Tesseract all along? We can't know that without trying those treatments on another human subject, and I'm not inclined to want to wake up one of the other winter soldiers to ask them how a particular injection makes them feel."

I started sniffling. Everything seemed hopeless.

Steve said, "We should stop."

I shook my head firmly. "No we shouldn't. If we stop for my mood swings, we'll be stopping every two minutes, just go ahead and let me cry."

They all looked extremely uncomfortable at the idea, but the conversation continued amid my quiet sobs and blowing my nose.

"So what about Stark's formula? Does it even help us at this point? Would it help the baby?" asked Bucky.

"Let's assume that it might," said Fury. "I had a conversation with Tony Stark that may shed some light on whether we can acquire it. Apparently he wants to be involved in the project, should the research continue. Your doing?" he said to me.

I nodded, trying not to hiccup. Tears were still streaming down my face. "I asked... for... his help."

"Well he maintains that there's no trace of Howard Stark's data on the serum in digital files. When we gave him the information revealed by Dr. Manscolm's test of Nimrod, he was intrigued. And it seems there _are_ some digital files on Howard Stark's junior EID program. The methodology was impressive. Evidently, it's possible for an EID to remember data in an encrypted format. It involves the creation of a special language that can only be deciphered with a code, which is then given to a different EID for storage."

I was so horrified that I stopped crying. "It's me, isn't it?" Something big fell into place in my head. "I'm the key."

Fury nodded somberly. "You are, as you say, the key. Stark's formula was distributed among several EIDs." He told me which ones, I'm not going to write them down. "And you contain the code that would decrypt the information they have."

I looked at Bucky. He said, "No."

"I agree," I said. "It's just... if I go through Nimrod to get the key, I'm endangering the baby, but getting Stark's research might save the baby and protect me from Hydra, and... and..."

I dissolved into sobs, and this time the conversation ended as Bucky pulled me close and stroked my hair for a few minutes. Fury and Steve exchanged a few more quiet words at the side of the room while Bucky and I tried to get me under control.

Once I was quiet, Fury approached the bed again. He said, "I want you to know that all of the data we have on how Barnes was enhanced has been given to Tony Stark for analysis and further research. He's working closely with Dr. Javier."

"Tell him that we're incredibly grateful to him," said Bucky softly. "And... tell him I'm waiting for his decision. Whatever he wants, I'll go quietly."

"No," I said.

Bucky gave me that look of absolute, adoring love that I've only seen once or twice, that makes my knees turn to jelly and my eyes start to burn. He said, "Jess, my love, my heart... shut up."

I shut up, stuck somewhere between confusion, anger, and arousal. I suspect that Bucky has been taking lessons from Joe on how best to talk to me.

Fury left the bedside with a suspicious-looking quirk at the side of his mouth, as though trying not to smile.

Bucky leaned toward me, taking my hands. "Has it occurred to you that the baby isn't the only one in danger right now? And I'm not talking about mind machines. I'm talking about you sitting here in a hospital bed, unable to stop crying, getting dizzy spells, random pain, fever."

And the answer was no. It really hadn't occurred to me that I was in danger too, because, as Bucky has said before, I have zero sense of self-preservation. I sniffled. "But so are you."

"All I'm saying is, Stark is trying to save you and the baby. If he manages that, I'll owe him my life, even without the debt I already owe. Does that make sense, you adorable idiot?"

Yep, he's definitely been learning from Joe. "Yes. Jerk."

He smiled. "Good. Time for you to get some rest."


	49. Chapter 49

Monday, May 19th, 2014

Well, today roughly marks the beginning of my second trimester. Still cramping, appetite high, no fever, mood swings still in full force. Restless as fuck. Today would be doctor day if I were on my usual schedule, but right now every day is doctor day so I'm all fucked up. The swelling of my belly is becoming more obvious. Bucky seems fascinated by it; he can't stop touching it. I actually growled at him like a dog at one point this morning when he wouldn't leave me alone. Joe found it hilarious. He managed to stay awake last night so that Bucky could sleep, and now he's checking out the guest quarters that Fury set up for him nearby (and probably sleeping). Joe expressed a little bit of dismay that he won't be able to go to work for a little while, but he quickly realized that wasn't a good thing to talk about in my presence, and stopped.

I suspect that one of the reasons Fury came by yesterday was to check on Bucky and ensure that he's gotten some rest. I suspect this because Fury sent Steve out on a Hydra raid today, and I don't think he would have done that if Fury didn't believe Bucky could protect me.

They've been checking on the data they obtained from Train since last week; surveying the newly discovered Hydra sites. Hydra probably tried to kill him to keep him from giving us that particular information. Which means that they don't know he already gave it to us, I guess. And now that the sites have been confirmed, they've started raiding.

* * *

Okay, so, wow.

WOW. I can't believe the things I'm about to write. First the raid stuff, and then... but I'll get into that later.

I still can't quite get my head around this one:

Dr. Manscolm's daughter is alive. So are the missing EIDs, Bren Greggory and George Steisz. They were all rescued during this morning's mission.

The EIDs are not in good shape. Hydra tried to break into their vaults and apparently failed, but did manage to cause them significant brain damage. They're at the hospital now. Fury wouldn't give us any more information than that.

But as regard's Dr. Manscolm's daughter...

Apparently Hydra faked her death for the files (I'm still amazed at how they can hide lies behind other lies in such a deeply tangled web) and took her to one of the isolated sites that only a few key members of Hydra knew about (except for Train), where they forced her to work for them, continuing her research.

The big shock: Dr. Manscolm _knew_ she was alive. Hydra has been trying to use her against him.

When Fury briefed us on this (yes, Fury knew too, but then, he knows everything), Bucky flew into a rage and I nearly followed him.

Bucky said, "Manscolm's been working for Hydra this _entire time_?!"

Fury shook his head. "No, he hasn't. He's been working for us as a double agent, playing a very delicate game. So delicate that I didn't think it was a good idea for anybody to know except for him and myself."

Now Fury's explicit trust in Dr. Manscolm was explained, but I couldn't say I was very happy about it. I kept playing over and over again in my mind every interaction I'd had with the doctor, trying to figure out which things had made it to Hydra's intelligence. "What did Hydra want from him?" I demanded.

"They wanted what they thought was inside your head: Stark's serum formula, even incomplete. Unstable super soldiers would be better than nothing at all, given Hydra's current problems. They've been feeding Manscolm more of his daughter's research on memory retrieval. Hydra suspected that you held the data, but after we dismantled most of their infrastructure, they needed SHIELD's facilities to complete Nimrod and break through your vault. They discovered that they didn't have the tools they needed after experimenting on Greggory and Steisz. Besides which, you were too well protected for them to abduct."

"Thanks to me," growled Bucky.

I felt ill, thinking about what the EIDs must have gone through. "But I got sick and I couldn't use the machine," I said.

"Which was unfortunate, but it became a helpful misfortune. We didn't know which EID had the data on Hydra's remaining unrecorded research sites. We were lucky that Train volunteered before you had a chance to use the device."

"And what if she hadn't gotten sick?" Bucky exploded. "Would Manscolm have just taken what he needed from her brain and given it to Hydra?"

"Along with the other EIDs so that they could crack the entire message?" I said. "Did Dr. Manscolm know I was the key all along?"

Fury's voice was calm, but I sensed an undercurrent of threat: he expected us to be upset, but was more than willing to dish out some hell if we didn't settle down soon. "Dr. Manscolm would have fed Hydra just enough data to keep them on the hook, without giving them anything concrete until we could track them down."

"Son of a bitch," Bucky said forcefully.

Fury said, "He was operating under my orders, Sergeant Barnes, so if anybody is a son of a bitch, it's me."

Bucky looked Fury dead in the eye. "Son of a bitch."

I was inclined to agree. Fury and Dr. Manscolm had been playing a deadly game, messing around with people's minds literally. "So many things could have gone wrong," I said accusingly. "How could you possibly trust him to work on a machine so potentially destructive when you knew what kind of pressure he was under? How could you trust him when his daughter's life was at stake?" I thought about Joey and swallowed hard.

Fury sighed. "Because I didn't have a lot of good choices, Agent Couring. Manscolm came to me weeks ago with the information that Hydra had his daughter, asking for my help. I don't know many people who would be capable of being rational under such circumstances, but he was. He knew that even if he cooperated, Hydra would either kill or more likely keep her forever. And he knew, based upon how Barnes was treated, the kind of things they might do to her."

"Death would be more merciful," said Bucky.

"I came to that conclusion myself, and so did he. Make no mistake, what he did wasn't easy."

"When did he find out about his daughter?" I asked.

"April 20th," answered Fury.

They had both been playing this game for around a month.

That was around the time that Dr. Manscolm stopped behaving like my therapist, and started to work more toward completing Nimrod. It made sense, now, why he had been so driven, and why he had only looked tired or stressed when work was halted. And why he had been so supportive of my working with the other EIDs on information retrieval and connection.

"So you gambled that the right EID might volunteer at just the right time with the right information to save everyone?" I said incredulously.

"We gambled on you, Agent Couring," said Fury. "We thought you were the one who knew all of Hydra's locations. I still suspect that you might. Hydra gave you a lot of data to keep. When Barnes volunteered, we thought perhaps it would be him."

Bucky said, "He did more to me than what he said he would, didn't he?"

"Possibly," Fury said. "Some of the memory restoration protocol had been implemented, but I don't know if he used it to jog your memories."

"He did. That's why my memories have been coming back so quickly all of a sudden," Bucky said. He looked furious.

"We had no idea it would work. Then it turned out that Train was our living map, and the formula was distributed." Fury looked at Bucky, then at me. "I regret that I couldn't tell you any of this."

"If you'd told us, we would have helped!" I said.

"No we wouldn't have," said Bucky darkly. "I didn't want you near that machine even before I knew the man at the helm was being used by Hydra."

"That's immaterial now." Fury paused. "For the record, Dr. Manscolm was in favor of telling you both. But I'm afraid I have trust issues when it comes to people with brain damage who have been mentally manipulated by Hydra in the past. No offense."

"None taken," I said coldly. Bucky's hands were clenched into fists.

Fury said, "Listen, if you both want to make me the bad guy on this one, fine. My shoulders are broad enough to take it. But I strongly suggest you not make an enemy of Dr. Manscolm, particularly not now."

"Why?" I said.

"Because he'll be working on Nimrod together with his daughter now, once she's recovered. And with her help, we should be able to create something that restores even more memory than we had hoped. Gillian Manscolm is the foremost expert on memory manipulation in the world, even more so now that she knows everything Hydra knows."

"But haven't they wiped her?" asked Bucky.

"Oh, they've messed with her mind a little, but there was only so much they could do because they needed her expertise to remain intact. Most of what she went through was more like behavioral brainwashing; sleep deprivation, indoctrination, torture. To render her compliant."

There was a brief silence after that. I broke it with, "Is she alright?"

"Not yet," Fury said. "But she's with her father now, and recovering quickly. Behavioral brainwashing never lasts long after you remove the source."

"Which means they were torturing her constantly, for... three years?" I said in horror.

"Correct."

"First Stark coming to see Jess, and now this. What else have you not told us?" Bucky said through gritted teeth.

Fury raised an eyebrow. "Nothing pertinent to your situation, but I'm sure I can't convince you of that. You don't trust me now, and I doubt you will again any time soon." He went to the door, and paused there to look back at us. "Dr. Gillian Manscolm will want to talk to both of you at some point in the near future. I hope you let her." He left.

I felt sick inside, more so than this morning. My mind was whirling with what-ifs, and all of them seemed to lead to disaster. Bucky seemed to be doing the same mental exercise. We looked at each other with mutual fear.

Bucky said, "They were leading you into a trap."

I shook my head. "No, the intention was never to damage my mind. They wanted to restore it."

"Something tells me that if Fury were faced with the decision to either destroy you or hand any information to Hydra, you wouldn't stand a chance." Bucky ran his hands through his hair, closed his eyes and lowered his head into his arms on the bed. He groaned. I touched his hair gently. He said, "There's nobody we can trust now."

"Joe and Steve," I said immediately.

Bucky lifted his head and looked at me with horrified eyes. "Do you think Steve knew?"

I shook my head. "Absolutely not. Do you think Fury would have trusted the world's most honest man with a secret like that? Knowing that you were his best friend, that you can read each other like a book?"

He shook his head. "I want to believe you."

"Well, the mission is over, so I'm guessing he'll be here to check on us any minute."

I wasn't wrong; Steve appeared not more than an hour later, wearing street clothes and looking very serious as he came inside the room. "Hi."

Bucky and I turned to face him. "Did you know?" asked Bucky.

"Not until this morning," Steve said, and I realized that he was just as furious as we were, though more quietly. "They had to tell us it was a rescue mission for it to work. By that time, it was too late to tell you. How are you? Both of you." He sat down.

"Angry," said Bucky.

"Afraid," I admitted. "I suddenly have this feeling that none of us knows what's really going on."

"Welcome to life working for Nick Fury," Steve said sourly. "He never tells you everything."

"Then why do you keep working for him?" asked Bucky.

"I'm no longer sure at this point. Hydra grew right under his nose because his tactics are way too close to the ones they use. I still think we should have dissolved SHIELD completely and started clean. Who knows how deep Hydra might be hiding?"

"Well, they've lost a serious advantage today," I said. "And you saved some lives."

"Which is the only reason I'm not in Fury's office right now, yelling at him."

"I've never seen you yell," I said.

Bucky said, "Yes you have, you just don't remember. It's kinda funny when he does." He smiled a little.

Steve rolled his eyes and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "I'm sorry you were lied to."

"Why are you sorry, pal? You had nothing to do with it."

"It just doesn't sit right with me, that's all." Steve sighed. Then he brightened marginally. "I do actually have a change of subject, if you would like one."

"Please," I said.

"Sure," said Bucky.

Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out... a ring.

I can't believe I'm writing this.

Yes, he actually pulled out a ring. It didn't look like a typical engagement ring, it didn't have a fat diamond in the middle; it had a bluish opal, surrounded by what looked like diamond chips, embedded in a warm, rosy color of gold I'd never seen before. But somehow I knew it was an engagement ring. And it was absolutely beautiful. My heart began to pound and melt at the same time.

It was at this point that I realized that some things about my relationship with Bucky and Steve would never be quite conventional. Maybe we weren't all sleeping together, but there was definitely something different about us.

I.e., this was very very weird.

I coughed, feeling myself blush. "Why Steve, I didn't realize we were at that point in our relationship."

Steve smirked at me, and turned to Bucky. "This is for you, actually."

Bucky said, "I'm flattered, buddy, but is that even legal in D.C.?"

"I'm surrounded by comedians," Steve said smiling. "Come on. Give it to her."

"Where the hell did you get this?" Bucky said, taking the ring and examining it. He looked uncertain.

"I am a man of mystery and intrigue."

"You're quoting Joe," I said, grinning.

"He might have helped," said Steve. "We found it online."

Trust Joe to know how much I dislike diamonds.

Bucky looked troubled. "Seems like it should have been my job to buy this."

I shrugged, and decided to get it out into the open. "I guess this means I'm marrying both of you."

They both stared at me.

I smiled. "I sort of knew that already. You can't get Bucky without Steve. And I'm not sure I would want it to be any other way."

Steve cleared his throat. "It's not really... I don't mean to..."

I cut him off. "Steve, do you even realize how much we both love you? Because this ring is pretty much hard proof of how much you love both of us."

Steve and Bucky were both red-faced now and averting their eyes from me and each other. I internally sighed. There goes Jessie the emotional sledgehammer again, re-traumatizing the soldiers. But it was the truth.

To my surprise, it was Bucky who broke the silence. He gave me and Steve a determined look and said, "I know I can't live without either of you. I've known that from the time we were in the woods together."

"I feel the same way," I said quietly. I knew that Steve loved Bucky far more than he loved me, and that was okay. Bucky was the bridge that knitted us irrevocably together.

But then Steve looked at Bucky and said, "Likewise." And he turned to me. And I could see it in his eyes for the first time, or perhaps I was just able to recognize it for the first time: Steve loves me, too. His heart was shining out of his eyes at me.

I thought about his visits, his kindness, his worry. I think he's been trying to say it for weeks, and didn't know how to do that without somehow trespassing on my relationship with Bucky, which he would never, ever do.

I was so shocked that I didn't even start crying. It was like the entire world tilted and then righted itself, but left me dizzy and breathless.

Steve said, "Buck, your move pal."

Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly and reached toward me.

I sat up and held out my left hand.

He put the ring on my finger and looked into my eyes. "Jess, will you marry me? Even though..."

"Even though I have to share you?" I nodded. "Yes." I was smiling so big that it hurt because it was so ludicrous and beautiful. And I think I was giving them both the same look they were giving me.

Guess what? I burst into tears.

Oh well. At least it was highly appropriate.

Of course the ridiculousness of the idea struck all three of us at the same time, and our expressions as we looked at each other went from wonder to alarm.

Steve said, "Well, this is... unexpected."

"And bizarre," Bucky said. "But I think it's high time we all gave up on being normal."

I said, "Steve, I think it's time for you to tell us all about this mission you were just on."

We all relaxed a little from the emotional high as Steve gave us all the gritty details, but it was still as though the three of us were floating in a bubble of happiness. Steve occasionally dropped in his usual dry humor, or Bucky or I interjected a joking comment, and we all three laughed frequently. I don't think we were laughing because it was funny. I think we were just looking for some way to vent some of the suppressed joy we were feeling.

By the time he finished, things felt nearly normal again. I have this feeling that there won't be a lot of moments in our lives when the three of us actually admit to what there is between us. It just doesn't suit Steve and Bucky to acknowledge such unconventional feelings. And I think I've said before... the love between them is so intense that I think it hurts them to bring it up.

But when Steve was done, and it was all settled unspoken among us that Bucky and I were engaged and Steve was our close friend and that was all, I had to make one last gesture. So I gently took Steve's hand and placed it on my belly.

He gave me a look that was very serious. It was a look that made a promise. And then he looked down at the rounded place where Joey was, and he smiled at her.

I looked toward Bucky, and was surprised to see him looking at Steve with what seemed to be relief.

I knew that protecting the baby has been a huge weight on his shoulders, but I don't think I realized just how bad it was until now. I guess he hasn't been talking to Steve about it, I know he's barely discussed it with me, and who else would he talk to?

Steve looked at Bucky and said, "It's going to be okay," in a voice of utter assurance. And Bucky looked back at him and believed him. I believed him, too. When Captain America says something like that, it means he's going to move the heavens and the earth to make it true.

Steve had to leave soon after to discuss future raids with Fury (and probably yell at him), but he promised he would return as soon as he could. When he left, Bucky and I looked at each other and I think we both realized for the first time how incomplete we were without him, even as close as we are, even as much as we love each other. But it was a good thing to know, not a bad thing.

Joe arrived this evening looking as smug as a cat, and I dutifully showed him my hand, and I think if he had been the least bit surprised he probably would have shrieked loudly enough to annoy the nurses. But he refrained, and merely commented on what a _lovely_ ring it was and didn't Bucky have exquisite taste?

I said, "Don't bother, we know you and Steve picked it out."

Joe rolled his eyes. "That man has no idea how to keep a secret."

"I know," I said laughing. "That's what we love about him."

Once upon a time, I couldn't have possibly imagined feeling this many high-voltage emotions in a single day and surviving it.

Have I become one of those people who have _drama_ now? God I hope not. Always hated those people.


	50. Chapter 50

Tuesday, May 20th, 2014

I must say, compared to yesterday, today is pretty dull. Which, considering yesterday, was actually kind of a relief. My symptoms are relatively mild.

Today is mostly about waiting.

We're waiting on my body to tell us whether I'm getting better or worse. We're waiting on Dr. Javier and Tony Stark to come up with some breakthrough that might help the baby. We're waiting to hear whether the rescued EIDs will recover. We're waiting to hear what Stark is going to decide to do about Bucky. We're waiting to see whether Dr. Manscolm and his daughter confront us with some new form of memory device. We're waiting on Steve and Fury to organize more raids on the remaining Hydra targets. Actually, I think they're waiting on Natasha, who's out there doing reconnaissance to figure out which ones we want to hit first. We're waiting to see whether my EID friends and DeSilva come up with any new and exciting data links.

There are things we could be doing while we wait... I know that Joe has baby furniture ads that he wants to show me. But he hasn't brought it up, which is a relief, because I would be afraid that we would be jinxing Joey's recovery somehow.

Every now and then, I look at the ring on my finger, and think _Wow. Did that actually really happen? Yes, it did, because there's this ring on my finger._ It still feels like it came from both of them.

It _did_ come from both of them.

Bucky's sleeping as per usual during daylight hours (my how quickly we fall into a routine) and Joe is reading some book of poetry--he's so much more cultured than I am in general. I wonder if Lawrence appreciates what a catch Joe is.

I wonder if Lawrence visits here at night, come to think of it.

Which brings me to the thing I've been thinking about all day without coming to any real resolution:

I'm really uncertain whether this whole threesome-of-emotion thing is a good idea for Steve.

To be perfectly crude, I suspect that if we all end up living together, the man will never get laid again. And that's assuming he's actually had sex at some point in the past, which I'm by no means sure of.

I can't quite say why I'm so sure that this threesome will never bear a sexual component. I do know that Bucky and Steve don't see each other that way. They need each other like air, but I don't think their genitals are involved in that decision. I also feel very strange about the idea of my having sex with Steve. It would almost feel... I dunno. Like I was making out with the Mona Lisa. Or maybe I just worry that this is one area where Bucky and Steve can't share. That would hardly be a surprise.

But that leaves the simple problem: Bucky and I have each other to hold at night. Who does Steve have? And I realize I've been worried about that since about midway through last year, because it's in the notebook several times.

Can our dynamic handle him taking on a girlfriend someday? I feel pretty confident that I could deal with it, and be very happy for him if he was happy. I think Bucky could feel that way too. But we both would need to take a large step back from this current intense intimacy, because who would want to try to compete with it? I wouldn't if I were some other girl.

What the fuck am I saying, that's exactly what I'm doing now. I'm... no, that's not right. I'm not competing for anything. Bucky and Steve somehow welcomed me in. There are times when I feel excluded from their relationship, but it doesn't bother me. It all just seemed to happen so naturally.

But now that I think about it, and think about what I read in the notebook, Bucky and I were actually taking very careful small steps the entire way, trying our best to keep the circle intact with Steve in it.

Maybe Steve was being careful, too.

So much to think about while I wait.

* * *

I got another call to my room today; this time it was from Whit.

"Greetings. How's the hospital?" he asked pleasantly.

"Still standing. Still boring. How are things at work?"

"Remarkably similar. Let me start by saying that we haven't found out anything further about the super soldier formulas."

I frowned. "Well, that sucks. What have you found?"

"Nothing, actually. I merely wanted to chat." He sounded deceptively calm, but then, he always sounds like that.

"Chat?" I asked. "Chat about what?"

"Chat. Find out how you are. Discuss recent events. You know, that conversation thing that you see people doing on the street so often? Chat."

I had to laugh a little. "Well, aside from being terrified and hormonal and not well at all, I'm fine."

"Jessie, we're all very sorry that you're having to go through this. DeSilva is very worried about you."

She would be. I miss her. I realized then that I miss all of them. "Tell her... I don't know what to say, really. I wish I could be reassuring."

"As it happens, I have the same wish. I'll have to settle for being inquisitive. What did you think about the great rescue raid we just accomplished?"

I squinted. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I value your opinion."

"Oh." I thought for a moment. "I hadn't really formed one, honestly. I think I'm still in shock. But now that you're having me think about it... I feel like I should feel, I dunno, triumphant or relieved or something, and really all I feel is anxious."

"I share your anxiety." He didn't sound the least bit anxious.

"Why?"

He paused. "Well. For one thing, why didn't Hydra kill the EIDs? From the reports we have, their minds are all but destroyed. And how did we manage to penetrate a Hydra base and acquire live hostages? Hydra is generally very skilled at not letting things like that happen."

"I agree," I said. "Something is wrong. But I don't think we have enough data to say what that might be."

"No, we don't. Don't you hate not having enough data?"

I smiled. "It's the worst."

"We're all paying very careful attention to what the Manscolms and the hostage EIDs do."

I thought for a moment. "Meaning I should pay attention, too."

"It might be a good idea."

"Okay. Was there anything else on your mind?"

"No. I'll let you rest."

"Thanks for calling, Whit."

"My pleasure. Get well and get back here, we need you."

It made me feel surprisingly warm inside. "Heh. Thanks."


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned: there is absolutely no real science in any of the below.

Wednesday, May 21st, 2014

Dr. Javier performed an amniocentesis and did another ultrasound on me today. Joey's still incredibly active and apparently playing havoc with my hormones; one second I'm itching to get out of bed and run around, the next I'm a sweaty, exhausted heap on the bed and close to falling asleep. My appetite is coming and going today.

After the procedure, Dr. Javier sat down next to us with a serious expression on his rosy-cheeked face, and said, "Now it's time for us all to have a discussion so I can brief you on what Mr. Stark and I have been working on."

Bucky and I exchanged a worried look.

Dr. Javier continued, "Stark felt--and I agreed with him--that we shouldn't focus on an unfinished formula when we have your baby's father right here for experimentation. So we've been mostly experimenting on your blood, Bucky. Unfortunately, there's a wee problem... your blood resists analysis."

"Resists analysis?" Bucky said, his forehead furrowing.

Dr. Javier nodded pertly. "It's really quite fascinating. Any manipulation we attempt to do in order to analyze a particular component of your blood... for instance, the simple act of adding a stain so that we can examine it better under a microscope... it fights. The dye refuses to combine, or else disappears. I think the cells are metabolizing it somehow, which ought to be impossible."

Bucky and I stared at the doctor. I said, "Does the baby's blood also, uh, fight analysis?"

"It's a little early to attempt to draw enough blood from the baby to analyze. But don't you panic," he admonished us, "We have another source of blood."

"Steve?" Bucky asked.

"Captain Rogers' blood is being perfectly cooperative, and we have years of notes to look at. Stark had another idea, to use the soldiers in hibernation as test subjects, or at least their blood. So that's three sources, and we're practically drowning in data at this point." He sounded delighted. "And we've found something extremely promising! It appears that adding small amounts of Captain Rogers' blood to the blood of the soldiers stablized the genetic changes. At least it's doing it so far, we don't know how long the effect lasts. But what's more impressive is that it seems independent of blood type. The secret seems to be a component of his plasma; Stark thinks it's a particular antibody that's binding to the test cells. In any case, we haven't seen any adverse reactions so far. This is great news!"

"Is it?" I asked nervously. Bucky squeezed my hand gently.

"It is! It's possible to perform a blood transfusion on the baby, using Captain Rogers' blood. We'll have to use intraperitoneal transfusion since it's still so early in the pregnancy... but it should still work. And once you reach 18 weeks we'll be able to transfuse directly into the umbilical cord. An added bonus is that this will also treat the anemia."

"But..." I tried to get my mind around the news. "What if the baby's blood fights, like Bucky's does?"

"The only thing that Bucky's blood doesn't seem to have any adverse reaction to, aside from distilled water... is Captain Rogers' blood." Dr. Javier raised his eyebrows significantly. "Captain Rogers has a blood type we've never exactly seen before, but it appears to make him useful on an unprecedented level. He could donate blood to you, Jessie, and you would be just fine. And then Stark found a way to extract samples from the combined blood and specifically test for... well, it's all very technical. But Captain Rogers appears to be the first true universal blood donor."

"He would be," Bucky said, with half a smile. "Now we're going to have to convince him not to try to give all of his blood away."

"He's already given us several gallons," Dr. Javier said. "His body replaces the cells at a furious rate, he just has to drink plenty of water."

I shared a look with Bucky. Yeah, we'll have to keep an eye on him.

The doctor continued, "So we have plenty of blood to work with, and can do as many transfusions as we need."

"How many times are you going to have to do this?" asked Bucky.

"It depends on how long the stabilizing effect lasts."

"And on whether it works at all," I pointed out.

"Now now, let's all stay as positive as possible," said the doctor cheerfully. "None of us is going anywhere and we're all working on this as hard as we can. You have a team of eight doctors focusing on your baby right now, Jessie. That's in addition to Mr. Stark and myself."

"Eight?" I asked. "Don't they have other patients?" I desperately want Joey to survive, but I also don't want a bunch of people to die because the entire hospital is fixated on us.

"Don't worry, nobody is being neglected," said Dr. Javier, seeming to read my mind. "We're all just putting in a few extra hours a night. To be honest, every doctor in obstetrics wanted to be involved, the science is just too fascinating to stay away."

"I guess that's a good thing?" I looked at Bucky, who nodded at me with a hopeful look on his face.

"So when do we start?" Bucky asked.

We're going to try the first of the transfusions tomorrow.

It took Tony Stark five days to figure this out. With the help of nine doctors, obviously, but I can't help but feel he was the driving force behind their discovery.

We went back to the room and I called Steve, who was there in a moment, as it seems his guest quarters are just a few hallways away. When he walked into the room, Bucky hugged him tightly, and I tried to smile. I felt, and feel, incredibly anxious about this procedure. Blood transfusions are always a risk, aren't they?

Steve said, "What's up? You both look... hopeful." He glanced at me. "And worried at the same time."

"It looks like your blood may be the answer to the baby's problems," I said. "Dr. Javier and Tony Stark think that transfusing it will stabilize... stabilize..." I was tearing up. I looked at Bucky. "What if it doesn't work?"

Bucky sat down and took my hand. "Then we're no worse off than we are right now."

Unfortunately, I'm a human encyclopedia at the worst of times. "Bucky, there are half a dozen things that can go wrong in a blood transfusion, and that's on an adult recipient." I sniffed, remembering the progress chart in the baby books. "She's only four inches long right now. She can't handle anything else going wrong."

"So... the doctor wants to give her my blood?" Steve asked quietly.

"That's what he told us," said Bucky. "How do you feel about it?"

Steve sat down and looked at us intently. "Do they really think that will help?"

"They do, I'm not sure how much I believe their conclusions," I said. Another tear rolled down my face. I wiped it away impatiently.

"But it's worth trying, right?" asked Steve.

"Absolutely," said Bucky firmly.

I paused for a moment, and then nodded wearily. "It's... something. It's something to try, and they haven't come up with anything else, or even any notion of what's really wrong." I let myself fall back onto the pillow, feeling suddenly weak and incredibly depressed. I knew it was mostly Joey's thrashing around that was causing my mood shift, but it didn't matter; it felt legitimate. "If it doesn't work..."

"Jessie, if it doesn't work, we'll find another way," said Steve.

I didn't want to say anything defeatist out loud. I just closed my eyes. More tears kept seeping out.

Bucky gently pushed my hair away from my forehead. "You need to rest."

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I said.

He didn't respond, but I felt him kiss the palm of my hand before the light dimmed and I heard soft voices talking as he and Steve moved to the other side of the room. For just a moment, I resented their closeness; I didn't really feel like I had that kind of harmony with anybody in the world.

I didn't think I was going to sleep at all, but then I woke up. Joe was there, reading. Bucky was on the other bunk, asleep.

I felt marginally less depressed, but still weak and tired. "Joe."

"Hey bratface." He put his book down and smiled at me. "I hear we had some good news today."

"Supposedly," I said softly.

"So what's wrong, aside from the fact that your body is shifting chemicals so fast that your emotions are trying to balance themselves on a trampoline?"

I had to smile a little. "I just feel kind of hopeless for some reason."

"Well... hope is dangerous stuff. It's fragile, and when it crashes, we get cut pretty badly."

"Um, is that available on a kitten poster?"

He grinned at me and leaned forward. "I'll give you my homespun wisdom and you'll take it and like it, because it's quoh-lee-tay, my darling. Now what can I do to cheer you up?"

"I dunno," I said listlessly.

"Well, by my calculations it's been nearly nine days since you last got laid. Your body is probably crying out for a good dose of manly juices."

I laughed in surprise. "Jesus, Joe. You're sick, you know that?"

"As it happens I am aware of it."

I wonder if he's right, though. I wonder again if I've used sex as a way to avoid processing all the shit that's happened to me. When it's taken away, I fall apart.

So I'm sitting here, scribbling away in my journal again. I think about sleeping in Bucky's arms, and I miss it so bad that my whole body aches just thinking about it, and then I start sniveling, and... shit. I started crying and now I can hear him getting up. I'll write more tomorrow.


	52. Chapter 52

Thursday, May 22nd, 2014

Last night, I stopped writing at around 4am... after which, Bucky came over and said quietly to Joe, "Can you give us a minute?"

Joe left, and Bucky without a word gently nudged me to the side and got into bed with me, pulled me into his arms and held me warmly. I kept crying for a little while, and he kissed a few tears off my cheeks.

"Everything feels so broken," I whispered miserably. "If she dies... if..."

"Hush. Trust me on this one... there's no way to handle the unspeakable until it actually happens."

That sounded pretty wise. I closed my eyes and snuggled deeply into him. "I was just missing this."

"Me too. If you promise to behave, we can probably get away with sleeping like this for just a little while."

I couldn't help but smile. "Hmm."

"Do you promise to behave, Jess?"

"I promise nothing."

" _That_ is what makes you the gal for me."

I laughed softly and he smiled.

He said, "Come on, close your eyes. Everything is going to be better in the daylight."

I said, "You seem oddly cheerful."

He shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. "I dunno. I feel reassured right now, I guess. There's something about the idea of using Steve's blood that seems... like it was somehow meant to happen."

I tried to think my way around that. "I'm not sure I know what you mean, but I'll accept it anyway. If this works... a part of Joey will be Steve Rogers."

"We're calling him Joey, now?"

"Her."

Bucky nuzzled my hair. "So be it. A kid could do worse than having three willing parents."

I let myself drift off, but I didn't sleep deeply. I just kept dozing for the next couple of hours. Bucky didn't leave my bed until the sun was well up.

The procedure was at noon. Keeping myself together through the morning was almost impossible; I kept having phases of that strange depressed hopelessness, then anger, then sickening terror. I couldn't eat, which made me feel ill. I threw up bile a couple of times. I tried my best to stay hydrated.

Steve had already given the blood needed for the procedure, but he shyly asked me and Bucky if he could be present while it was done. We agreed immediately.

Dr. Javier performed the transfusion, it didn't take long, and I didn't need more than a local anesthetic; the size of the needle was a little alarming, but otherwise it was all fine. When he was done, I asked, "How long will it be before we know if it's working?"

"Almost immediately. Take a look." Dr. Javier turned the ultrasound monitor toward me and pressed the panel against my abdomen firmly. I looked. There was Joey, fluttering with movement, almost vibrating with it... and then she suddenly slowed.

I felt a stab of fear. "Is she okay?"

"Perfectly fine, see the heartbeat still?"

"I see it."

"The baby is calming down. Let's keep an eye on her for a few minutes."

We watched, but Joey didn't start thrashing around again; her heart beat steadily and she just drifted, very slowly and occasionally moving something (it was hard to distinguish arms from legs). Dr. Javier looked more and more cheerful as the moments passed, and some of the terror in my gut began to slowly dissipate. I looked at Bucky, who was watching the monitor with love and hope in his eyes. I looked over at Steve. He was staring at the monitor with his lips slightly parted, as though in shock.

"Steve, are you alright?" I asked.

He shook himself a little. "It's just amazing."

The doctor did a few more tests and we watched a little longer, and then he sent us back to my room. He told us that I should be able to tell a difference in my own body in a matter of hours.

We went back to the room and I got back into the bed, feeling drained and weepy. Joe asked me if there was anything I wanted. I told him I couldn't think of anything. Steve went out to guard the hallway, and something told me he needed to pace for a while. We were all tense.

Bucky sat by me and held my hand. I closed my eyes, willing time to pass.

After what felt like forever, I felt something strange: a kind of warmth, stealing over me. I couldn't tell whether I was imagining it at first, but it became stronger until I felt like I was immersed in a warm bath. It was incredibly relaxing, and it brought with it a sensation of well-being that relaxed my muscles and made my stomach stop clenching. I opened my eyes. Everything in the room seemed visibly lighter than it had been, and not just because it was afternoon.

I took a deep breath. "Bucky."

He squeezed my hand. "Here."

"I think it's working. I feel different." I paused, trying to put it into words. "I feel like everything is okay."

"Jess, that's wonderful!" Bucky said, and then he had to hold me as I of course burst into tears. Steve came to the door in a moment, and we told him the good news (me amid sobs), and there was mutual hugging and laughter and I think even Bucky and Steve had tears in their eyes.

Bucky said, "Do you need to rest?"

I said, "Probably. Now that everything feels so quiet."

I slept for about an hour.

I woke up starving. The nurses brought me some food (and Joe brought me some strawberries, which made me smile), and I wolfed it down; it tasted amazingly good for hospital food. I felt better than I'd felt in weeks.

Which of course heralded trouble.

"Can I get up?" I said to the room at large.

Bucky and Joe exchanged a look. Joe said, "Do you need the bathroom?"

"No, I just want to get _up_. Can I go outside?"

Three male voices chorused a firm, "NO."

"Argh. The hallway, at least? Can I wander around some?"

"Let's ask the nurse," Steve said diplomatically.

The nurse didn't think that a short walk would hurt me, but cautioned that if I felt any cramps or soreness whatsoever from the procedure that I should immediately lay down again, because fetal transfusions could occasionally cause contractions. That was warning enough to inspire me to walk slowly. But Bucky and I did stroll down the hallway and back a few times, and I was well enough to notice the things around me and to feel utterly disgusted with how weak my legs felt.

When we came back to the room, Steve was napping and Joe was gone (to his room, I guessed), and I took one look at the bed and felt a wave of revulsion. "I'm not getting back in there."

"I'm pretty sure you are, eventually," said Bucky.

"Not right now. Please."

"Okay, how about the chair?"

"That works."

I was in the chair for five minutes before I felt the need to start pacing the room. I felt as though I had just broken free of a prison cell, and now I couldn't help but move around. "Okay," I said, talking to nobody in particular. "We've got to figure out a way to defeat Hydra, because I want the fuck out of this hospital."

"We just got you on your feet!" Bucky protested.

"I feel like my mind is clear for the first time in forever." It was. I felt _awake_ , as though I'd been sleeping for days and days. "How long have I been here, Bucky?"

"Eight days."

"Jesus. It all runs together in my mind."

"Not in mine," Bucky said softly. "It feels like eight years."

I sat down beside him. My legs were actually tired, it was just my mind that was restless. "I'm sorry."

He looked at me searchingly. "Are you really feeling better, or is Joey just messing with you again?"

"I'm not sure," I said, putting a hand on my belly. "But that feeling I had... that she was crying out for help... I don't feel that way right now. I think that's why my head is so clear. It's like she's able to rest for the first time in days. Maybe weeks."

His hand joined mine, lightly pressing against my belly. "Okay. Then she's letting you think clearly, and that's what I need you to do. Think clearly. It's what you're good at, right?"

I felt chastened, and nodded. "Right. I'm supposed to be good at it. I used to be, at least."

"Hydra wants the super soldier formula that Howard Stark was working on."

"Right. And that formula is distributed among the EIDs, encrypted. I hold the key to the encryption. If Hydra can get me, they can unlock the others. So they need me, but I'm useless without at least one of the others." I pressed my hands against my temples. "What's the best way to get to us?"

"Much as I hate to say it, we may have made it easier for them," Bucky said. "Fury has put most of them in a single place. A fairly secure place, but still... just one point of access to overcome to get the others. And the hospital isn't secure at all. You've got me and Steve and Joe between you and whatever forces of Hydra remain."

I bit my lip. "So that's a part of what's been stressing you out."

"I didn't want to make you nervous, so I didn't say anything, but yeah, it is."

"How much of Hydra is out there, I wonder? Are we hunting a few dozen people, or thousands?"

"They must have at least enough people and resources to consider a counter-strike a worthwhile option. That's another part of what's stressing me out."

"What else?" I rubbed his shoulder gently. I haven't had much of a chance to do anything for him lately; I could feel the balance of responsibility slowly shifting between us. It was a relief, and made me wonder if he hates being fragile as much as I do.

He glanced at me and I realized he'd read my mind. "Suddenly we're worried about me, now?"

"It's a nice break from worrying about me, isn't it?"

"Who says I'm done worrying about you?"

"I think you can take a five-minute break."

"Five minutes. Okay. But only five." He touched my face, and kissed me. My entire body woke up, and I told it sternly to calm down. He said, "The memories."

"The memory manipulation is still working, then."

"They're coming back fast. Faster than I can write them down."

I swallowed. "So you're still writing your memoirs."

"In my few spare moments, yes." His eyes darkened. "It keeps getting worse. I keep thinking that it can't get worse, and I keep being wrong."

I stroked his face. "Is anything good coming back?"

"Here and there I get a little bit more of my youth, but those memories are like shadows. The deaths, though, are clear. So clear." He looked at me. "And you. You're clear. And Steve. Not much else."

I looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. Dark, shaggy hair. Stormy blue eyes, deep and troubled. Broad shoulders beneath a long-sleeved shirt that hid his left arm, but his silver hand was visible. I remembered watching him work out, back in BB17, his body, how badly I had wanted him.

I _remembered_ it. Clearly.

"I just remembered something from last year."

His eyes brightened a little. "Tell me."

I nudged a little closer to him and lowered my voice, very aware that Steve was asleep nearby. "I remember watching you work out, and how it nearly drove me crazy, wanting to fuck you so badly it felt like I had a fever." I slid my hand up his right arm, and he tightened the muscle to give me something to think about.

He gave me a slow smile. "I wonder why my mother never warned me that girls only ever think about one thing."

"Only some girls."

"Lucky me."

"I miss flirting with you," I said a little shyly.

He put his arm around me. "You're definitely feeling better."

I frowned. "Another reason I want Hydra to die... we'll never get any alone time again unless we can get out of this hospital."

"So Hydra is basically interfering with your sex life?"

"Yes."

Bucky smiled a little wider. "Hydra is _so_ very, very dead."

They really are.

If they try to get between me and Bucky again, they are going to be seriously fucking obliterated.


	53. Chapter 53

Friday, May 23rd, 2014

I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to run a marathon. Of course the boys wouldn't let me.

Dr. Javier was delighted when he examined me and the baby this morning; apparently her vitals are good, and so are mine, better than good. I told him worriedly that I had no urge to throw up this morning (I still have the mental association that vomiting = good), and he reassured me that I was far enough along in the pregnancy that I should finally be leaving some of the morning sickness behind.

We made it this far, Joey.

I thanked Dr. Javier and told him to please thank Stark for me. He said that he would.

I feel a dreadful weight of obligation toward Tony Stark right now. I don't know what it cost him to leave Bucky alone... and then to save our baby... I can't get my head around it. I wish there was something I could do for him. Anything.

The only thing I can think of is that if I'm instrumental in destroying what remains of Hydra, I will have avenged his parents to some extent.

My restlessness took a sharp hit today in the form of a little excitement that I hadn't planned on... we had some unannounced visitors.

Bucky and Steve and I had been quietly discussing what sort of forces Hydra might still have when there was a tap on the open door.

The minute Fury stepped through the door, Bucky stood up. Then Dr. Manscolm came in, and in a blur of motion that was too fast to see, suddenly Steve and Bucky were halfway across the room and Steve was struggling to hold Bucky back from attacking the doctor. Actually Bucky might not have attacked; maybe he just wanted to yell at him at close range. Whatever his intention, his head was lowered like a bull in full charge.

He didn't have a knife in his hand, so... that was good, I guess. I got up pretty quickly and joined Steve by Bucky's side, holding his other shoulder. He quieted marginally when he felt me there.

Dr. Manscolm took a reflexive step back. Just behind him I could see a woman with short-cropped blonde hair who appeared to be in her forties (though in retrospect she might have been younger, considering what she's gone through), hesitating in the doorway. She took a look at the tableau and gasped loudly, covering her face with her hands, crouching slightly away. Dr. Manscolm immediately turned to her and put his arms around her, murmuring something... reassurances, I'm guessing.

Fury said, "Sergeant Barnes, if you were anybody else, I'd have shot you."

"Good luck trying," Bucky growled.

"Hence why I didn't try. If you're done traumatizing Dr. Gillian Manscolm, I'd like you to back up. Slowly."

Bucky looked at the woman shaking in Dr. Manscolm's arms and took a slow step back. "Why are you here?" he said, seemingly to all three of them.

"To talk to Jessie, which we will do once you leave this room," said Dr. Manscolm coldly. I realized that I had never really seen him angry before. Or really emotional, for that matter... he looked ruffled and his eyes were red. He was standing in front of his daughter as though shielding her.

"Nobody is going to say anything to Jess without me," Bucky said, his voice still harsh. He took a step to the side, and now _he_ was shielding _me_ , and this was getting out of control fast.

"Bucky," I said.

"I'm not leaving," he said firmly.

I huffed a sigh. "Then would you at least calm down? You have no idea how scary you look when you go into rage mode." He glared at me, and I said, "Look at her, Bucky." I nodded toward Gillian Manscolm, who was trying to catch her breath.

Bucky took another look at her, and his shoulders relaxed. He opened his mouth to say something, probably an apology, but it seemed to die before he could say it. He wasn't sorry.

I looked at Dr. Manscolm and said tightly, "He's not entirely unjustified. You fucked with his mind. There's nothing else you could have possibly done to him that would be more hurtful than that."

Dr. Manscolm said, "I wanted to tell both of you. I didn't have a choice." He sounded hoarse. He said to his daughter, "We don't have to do this. We can leave right now."

Gillian Manscolm was recovering quickly, taking deep, controlled breaths with her eyes tightly shut. "No, I'm alright."

"Like hell you're alright," he said sharply.

"Simmer down, Dad." She opened her eyes and focused on Bucky. Her eyes were still fearful, but she seemed determined to not let it get the better of her. "I understand you and I share a history of captivity under Hydra."

It was an oddly perfect thing to say. Bucky chilled out in under a second, and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." His voice was quiet.

"You just meant to frighten him?" She indicated her father.

Bucky considered that for a moment, and seemed to take her point. "He won't get an apology from me. What do you want to talk to us about?" he asked calmly.

"About what Hydra's been doing in the past few years," said her father. He appeared to be calming down as well, though his eyes on his daughter were still worried. "Apparently they were on the verge of creating an entirely new form of mind control, when we raided the site where they were keeping Gill."

I exchanged a frightened look with Bucky and Steve. "What kind of new mind control?" I asked.

"Why don't we all sit down?" asked Fury.

We arranged ourselves in a loose circle. Dr. Gillian M. was still visibly shaken, but her voice was steady as she explained. "The type of memory manipulation and mind control utilized on Sergeant Barnes here was always imperfect. I studied you, you know," she said quietly to Bucky. "I studied ways to make you more compliant. I'm responsible for at least part of your experience."

Bucky looked at his hands for a moment, and then up at her. "My name is Bucky. And you didn't have a choice," he said. "Nobody would know that better than me."

Tears came to her eyes and she shook her head. "Ah, but they didn't mess with my mind. They needed it intact."

"They didn't mess with your mind, but you're missing two fingers on your left hand," Steve said gently.

She nodded. "I was given incentives to cooperate."

We all paused at that, and I felt faintly sick.

"Tell them what you found out," said Fury.

"Well, first of all let me say that we're all very lucky that Bucky escaped when he did," she said. "He was by far the best test subject when it came to mind manipulation; losing him put Hydra at a huge disadvantage."

"Why was he such a good test subject?" I asked.

"Sheer resilience," Dr. GM (I'm going to abbreviate her from here on out) said. "His cells regenerate at a furious rate. That's a part of why they could only unfreeze him for a few days at a time..."

"... Because his brain would have healed without constant tampering," I said, feeling triumphant. "I knew it."

"And while we're clarifying things," said Dr. Manscolm, "Bucky, I didn't mean to jog loose a flood of memories when I put you into that device. It was a side effect of the single recalled memory. In effect, I gave your brain a map to where the memories were, and your brain quickly started utilizing that pathway. If you hadn't had the ability to heal the way you can, it would have been weeks before any more memories resurfaced."

"You still knew it would have an effect," said Bucky.

"I suspected it, and I apologize for not warning you that it could happen. But I honestly did not know for sure."

"I don't know how to believe a word you say to me now," Bucky said roughly.

"We'll worry about that later. Returning to Hydra..."

"Yes," Dr. GM said. "Returning to Hydra. They were close to perfecting their ability to control a mind when you slipped the noose. They could never have fully controlled you, Bucky, but they would have been able to control a mind with lesser healing ability."

"But... what does that mean, control?" I said, feeling sick again.

"It means they were on the verge of being able to re-program a human brain the way you would program a computer. Elaborately, profoundly, and permanently."

"So you program a soldier, and then basically just wind him up and let him go," said Steve. "Human robots."

"Exactly," said Fury.

"How close did they get, Doctor?" Steve asked her.

"That's the thing." Dr. GM took a deep, shaky breath. "I don't know. But something about the raid on the laboratory where I... worked... was all wrong. I can't put my finger on it exactly. But it felt staged. They let me go too easily, and most of the personnel were mysteriously absent when Captain Rogers appeared. I don't know, it was just... suspect."

I felt my face go pale, remembering my conversation with Whit. He had been right. "George Steisz and Bren Greggory were rescued from the same facility. What if they were programmed?"

Fury said, "Apt deduction, Agent Couring. I put them under guard the moment these concerns were brought to my notice. So far, they haven't done anything unusual, but I'm not going to let them go anywhere or do much of anything. Then again, they weren't doing much of anything before. They're not in a vegetative state, but they don't speak or accomplish much beyond small, simple activities. Basic life functions, or repetitive tasks."

We discussed the possibilities of perfect mind control for probably another hour without really getting anywhere. I did tell Fury and Dr. Manscolm about Steve's blood transfusion and Joey's recovery (I haven't had a cramp or a really bad mood swing all day), and they were both glad to hear it.

Before they left, Dr. GM asked to speak to Bucky alone for a few minutes, and they went out into the hallway together.

I asked Bucky later if he could tell me what they talked about, or if it was too personal. He said, "Not really. She... wanted to apologize, if you can believe it." He laughed humorlessly. "I have to say I felt like pond scum when she said that, after the way I scared her walking into the room."

"Wow," I said softly. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her she had nothing to be sorry for, and that Hydra was expert at tearing me up long before she got there. And then... I told her... that it gets better. The longer you're away from them, the better it gets, as long as you're surrounded by people who love you."

I leaned forward and kissed him. "Like me."

"Like you."

I ran my fingers through his hair, wishing that I could drag him into bed with me. Not even for the sake of pure horniness; more for reassurance than anything, I think.

I took several walks through the hallway today, and my legs are feeling stronger.


	54. Chapter 54

Sunday, June 8th, 2014

The last time I wrote in this thing was two weeks ago.

I think everybody is still kind of in shock. I still feel numb in some ways, and really emotional in others... finally I thought that maybe writing everything down might help. I actually forgot about this journal, things were so insane.

I don't really know how to tell this in the right order. I guess I'll just start writing.

Hydra never programmed Bren Greggory and George Steisz. Maybe they tried, I don't know. Maybe there are still some surprises for us later on, though I doubt it.

Hydra did, however, program the soldiers in Siberia. Just the way Dr. GM said: elaborately, profoundly, and permanently. They were set to perform a certain program once they woke up, just like computers.

Howard Stark's formula was temporary, but they only needed to be super soldiers long enough to carry out one last mission: either get me and the other EIDs to Hydra somehow, or kill us all.

But someone had to unfreeze them and tell them where I and the other EIDs were.

It was the same Friday that we'd had the round-table discussion of Hydra's mind manipulation... it was the middle of the night, when I woke up. No, that's the wrong way to say it. Something _woke_ me up.

I opened my eyes and saw that Bucky was standing in the doorway. Joe was in his quarters, and Steve wasn't in the room either. I said, "Bucky?" almost silently.

He held up a warning hand in my direction: _Stay quiet._

Then I heard the noise again, a crashing sound. I was instantly and painfully wide awake, my heart pounding. I covered my belly protectively, a totally useless gesture. I thought about what Bucky had told me... that the hospital was a completely insecure location.

Bucky's entire body tensed for a moment as he pulled out a gun. I know now that at that instant, he was torn between the impulse to rush down the hallway to help Steve, and the impulse to stay and protect me.

That's when the smell hit me. Formaldehyde and menthol.

I remembered that smell. I _remembered_ it. It was what Bucky used to smell like as he thawed out. And I knew what was happening.

I pictured the layout of the floor. We were at the end of two hallways; it would be a simple matter to literally corner us in this room.

Bucky turned away from the door. "Get up."

I got up on legs that were wobbly and uncertain. "Where do we go?"

"Nowhere for now." He darted toward me and grabbed my bed, flipping the entire structure (mind you, a hospital bed with all the steel and fittings and framework and machinery) on its side with a crash. "Hide behind that."

I crouched behind it. "What are you gonna do?"

"Keep them out of the room until..."

"Until what?"

"Until help arrives." He looked at me for a moment, and then disappeared. I hunkered down behind the bed and trembled.

Shots rang out in the hallway, and screams... the nurses, or patients, or both. I tried not to think about the collateral damage. Would the unfrozen soldiers care about bystanders? Steve and Bucky would. That would be a disadvantage for them. It occurred to me that I hadn't heard shots until Bucky went out there, so hopefully the other soldiers weren't armed.

A moment later Bucky and Steve burst back into the room.

I stood up. "It's the frozen soldiers, isn't it? How many of them are there?" I said shakily.

Steve said, "Originally there were eight. I don't know how many are awake. We just took care of two of them, they were headed this way."

"What about the other EIDs?" I asked.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other and I read it in their eyes: we didn't have enough manpower to deal with this.

"As long as we stay here, the good guys know where we are as well as the bad guys," said Bucky.

"Stark can track any one of us from miles away," said Steve. "I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about the civilians around us."

"Maybe we can move them," Bucky suggested. "Clear the area somehow."

"This is a hospital," I said. "Most of the people here are here precisely because they can't be moved."

Suddenly, I heard a metallic thud down the hallway, followed by a series of heavy footsteps. Bucky and I both looked at the doorway with fear, but Steve called out, "In here!"

"Well now. Disney's Soldiers on Ice, and we have front row tickets." Iron Man stood in the doorway. I had never seen him before fully outfitted; he was awe-inspiring. The floor shook as he walked.

"Tony, how many of them are in the hospital?"

"I put one down, and my sensors say three more. I've invited in the cavalry to keep everybody in their rooms until we've secured the area."

I didn't know what he meant at the time; now I know that he had dispatched dozens of automated soldiers and set them to patrolling the hallways, blaring out warnings to everybody to stay in their rooms until the trouble was over. I could hear tinny voices echoing through the hall, but what they were saying wasn't clear to my ears.

"What about Fury?" Steve said.

"He's rustled up a posse. Everybody's on their way here except for Special Edition Hammer-Wielding Barbie, who is apparently off-world. You," Stark turned to Bucky. "Can you protect Jessie while we clean house?" His voice sounded stiff, but not hateful. I wondered what he was thinking. Possibly he was just too busy to be angry.

Bucky said, "With my life." With zero hesitation.

"Then get her out of here."

"What's the fastest way out of the building?" I said.

Stark pointed a metal hand at the window, and it shattered. "Occam's razor."

"Good idea," said Bucky. He swept me up into his arms and before I could protest, he jumped out of the fucking three-story high window, holding me. I was too shocked to be properly afraid until we hit the ground. He did nothing more than grunt.

Later on, I asked Tony Stark whether or not one ever got used to being around modified super-individuals, and he said, "No, but Steve can fold fitted sheets, so there are advantages."

When I got my breath back, I said, "Where are we going to go?"

"Somewhere quiet. Hopefully they can't track you. For now, we need to think, because this was clearly an inside job. Those soldiers didn't unfreeze themselves," said Bucky. "Who knew where your room was?"

"You, Steve, Joe... oh my god, Joe!"

"I doubt they would go after him, there's no reason to. He's safe where he is."

I tried to believe it. "Who else... Fury... the nurses... Dr. Manscolm and his daughter... Dr. Javier, Stark..."

"Okay, any of the nurses or doctors could be Hydra. We can't rule them out. And we can't rule out the Manscolms. Anybody else?"

I was sure I was forgetting somebody, but I couldn't get my brain to work properly. I couldn't imagine any of them being Hydra. But that was Hydra's power, wasn't it? They could be anyone.

Bucky was walking rapidly, still carrying me. I said, "I think I can walk."

"Not fast or quiet enough. Now hush." He carried me around the building to the front of the hospital; about a quarter of a mile trek, but it didn't take long. Once we were near the well-lit front, he gently put me down and beckoned me to follow him. We hunkered down in some bushes by the corner of the building. "Now we wait."

I could hear faint crashing sounds from inside the building. I put a hand on Bucky's shoulder; he was quivering slightly. I whispered, "You want to be in there."

He said, "Yes, but I'm not leaving you. I'm not making that mistake again."

I swallowed. "Bucky, if anything should happen... I love you."

He looked at me sternly. "I love you too, but don't let yourself think that way. Not now."

Then he looked out at the grounds in front of the hospital, watching for reinforcements, but I just watched him. For some reason, a memory came back to me: I remembered the night he pointed a gun in my face. The light had been like this; moonlight and faint street light coloring everything monochrome, him especially becoming this creature of black and white. His entire body was tense now, waiting.

I could remember how it felt that night, that love so overpowering that it made me unafraid to die.

I felt a surge of love, hot and fierce, rise in my chest and throat. We were going to survive this. We _had_ to. I refused to admit to the possibility of us not having a life to live together. After everything he suffered, and everything I suffered, that didn't seem too much to ask. I wanted us to live and have a chance at happiness. And Joey, too, who hadn't even had a chance at anything yet. Surely everything we had gone through up until now couldn't be rendered meaningless.

And it wasn't, I realized. It couldn't be. Even if the soldiers killed us all... the love we'd had was real, the love for our daughter was real, the love for Steve was real... this whole story _meant_ something. It would always be meaningful, even if we all died tonight.

When the quinjet landed, it almost seemed anticlimactic to me. I already knew everything I needed to know.

Bucky signalled to stay still. Natasha was the first to emerge, at a run, holding a handgun of some sort. Bucky gave a short, sharp whistle into the darkness. She checked herself and stopped. "We've secured the outside of the hospital. You can come out."

Bucky and I emerged and ran over to her. My legs seemed to be functioning well now. Bucky said, "We need a safe place to keep Jessie while we clean out the hospital, and somebody needs to check on the other EIDs."

"Fury and Hawkeye are on it already." Natasha tilted her head suddenly, a listening stance. "Shit." She paused and then her jaw firmed. "It sounds like we have ourselves a hostage situation. We need to get over there as soon as possible. Stark, what's the word on the inside? Okay, we'll be there in a moment." She focused her attention on Bucky again. "Jessie can stay in the jet."

"Who's in there?" Bucky asked.

Natasha smiled wickedly. "Banner. In other words, I pity the idiot who tries to get to her."

Bucky looked at me and said, "Will you stay here until we get back? Please." There was a world of emphasis on that _please_.

I looked deeply into Bucky's eyes, swallowed a myriad of protests, and said, "Absolutely."

Dr. Banner wasn't quite what I expected (then again, I can't say exactly what I expected); he was incredibly mild-mannered and a little awkward with me, as though he were more comfortable with scientific experiments than with people. I tried to imagine him tearing a hole in the side of a building and failed utterly. But supposedly he had done just that, and dozens of other earth-shattering things. I did the diplomatic thing and asked him if he'd been working on anything interesting recently. He brightened and immediately launched into a flow of scientific jargon that I can still remember but can't make heads or tails out of.

It was mere minutes before Stark, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky returned. Steve was bloodied, but didn't look too badly damaged. I wondered how much of the blood was his.

Bucky took me in his arms and whispered, "Thank you," into my hair.

"For what?"

"For being here when I got back."

I grabbed his head and kissed him hard, and then extricated myself so I could hug Steve. "Are you hurt?"

"You should see the other guy," Steve said drily. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"Strap in," said Natasha, already at the controls.

"Why? We're not going that far," said Steve.

"Yes we are. The other soldiers got to the other EIDs minutes before the attack on Jessie. They're already in transit with all of the EIDs and DeSilva."

We strapped in.

"Someone needs to check on Joe," I said.

Stark said, "I'll send someone. Be right back." He stepped outside just before the hatch closed.

I held Bucky's hand as we shot off into the darkness.

The Avengers (it still feels odd to say that) kept in constant contact as we traveled, and I gathered that we were attempting to figure out a way to head off the van that the hostages were being carried in without making the soldiers feel cornered. The van held two modified individuals, four normal people, and one dead body. One of the hostages had already been killed, probably in transit, and either the soldiers didn't want to take the time to push out the body, or else leaving it there was the best form of psychological insurance against the others trying to resist in any way. I tried not to think about who it might be.

"Stark has word on your brother, he's safe," Natasha said to me. "Rhodes is with him, and a SHIELD agent is there too, apparently he was already on the premises."

_Lawrence,_ I thought, and I was grateful.

"Did the soldiers kill anybody in the hospital?" I asked quietly.

Steve said, "According to Tony, four security guards, two nurses, and a doctor, who was shot. None of the soldiers were armed, so he was killed by somebody else, we don't know who." Steve looked at me. "The doctor was Dr. Javier."

It was like a punch to the gut. Rosy-cheeked, endlessly optimistic Dr. Javier... gone.

"He was the one with the most access to the frozen soldiers because of all of the blood tests that he did," said Steve. "I think he fell afoul of our insider while the soldiers were being unfrozen."

We didn't have time to think or grieve. We had two more soldiers and four frightened hostages to track down.

The most vulnerable point would be the extraction from the van to wherever their base was. But we had no guarantee that the place wouldn't be barricaded somehow. We had to get to them while they were moving, but it had to be at just the right moment, because they had to get close enough to the Hydra base for us to find it and clean house. Natasha used the jet's scanners to analyze the grounds a few miles ahead of the van at all times.

We were on the road three hours by the time we reached it. The sensors indicated a huge array of machinery and people, out in the middle of a nature preserve. It had to be Hydra. We had a few minutes to act before the van reached its destination.

Stark had a relatively insane plan.

He was the only thing that could get close to the van in transit without being knocked around by the trees on both sides of the road they were on, and without alerting them too prematurely. But he wasn't sure he could kill the soldiers without injuring anybody else inside. It would require a pretty delicate touch.

So he dove in next to the van... with Hawkeye _riding_ him. Basically being carried along on Stark's metal carapace. I would not have wanted to be Hawkeye in that moment. But not only did Hawkeye do it, he also sniped the two soldiers with arrows while the van was moving, one of which he shot through the opaque wall of the back of the van, just going by Stark's instructions. (What the hell kind of instructions? "An inch to the left, no, too far, half an inch to the right"? Jesus.)

Stark stopped the van. We landed just behind them as he tore open the door, and we all ran out to help the EIDs. They were getting out of the van as I came near, visibly shaken, sick-looking. I thought they probably needed to see a familiar face, so I shrugged my way through the others to get to them.

Train was the fourth one out of the van. Whit was directly in front of him. As Whit came out, he looked me in the eye, and then he seemed to stumble, and then lurched violently back and shoved Train back into the van. A shot rang out, and Stark did something with his hands and Yumiko screamed and suddenly everything was happening at once...

Bucky pulled me back from the fray, shoving me behind him. But by then it was over.

We pulled Whit out of the van and Dr. Banner came running to help him, but it was already too late. He was dying.

Train was already dead, one of Stark's repulsor beams had got him directly in the chest. At first I thought that one of the soldiers was still alive in the van, but when the gun fell out of Train's hand, I realized what had just happened.

It was Train.

He was Hydra all along. He had volunteered to let us experiment on his memory, after making it overtly obvious to me that he held Hydra data. He had led us to the other Hydra bases. No wonder Gillian Manscolm's rescue had been so easy; Hydra had known we were coming. The rescue was a distraction, a way to make us think that we'd gotten the best of Hydra finally. Train had led us to Siberia, in order to get the frozen soldiers back here where he could unfreeze them and use them to get me. They had been frozen with that single protocol in their minds. He'd nearly killed his own bodyguard so that all of the EIDs would be put in one place, a place together with him, so that he could help the remaining soldiers corral them. And all of the EIDs knew where my room was; they had been calling the room directly. That was who I had forgotten about.

He had been smarter than all of the rest of us put together.

Train would have killed me the second he got out of the van. He had been holding a gun on the others. And Whit simply... refused to let it happen.

Inside the van, I could see DeSilva's body draped across one of the seats. It made sense, in retrospect; she was the least useful to them. But at the time it was yet another nasty shock.

After that, everything became very quiet. Fury pulled up in a sleek black car and got out, and swore at the carnage on the ground. Stark and Steve were talking in quiet voices. Bucky took me in his arms, but I just felt completely numb. My ears were ringing. Samuel and Yumiko were sitting on the ground, and Natasha was crouched down talking to them.

Dr. Banner looked up. "Jessie. He just said your name."

I looked at him, then at Bucky, who released me slowly. I went to where Whit was lying on the ground, and knelt down. He was still alive, barely. I took his hand. He murmured something.

I leaned down, putting my ear in front of his mouth. "What is it? Say it again, Whit."

He whispered, "I volunteer."

I sat back, my eyes filling with tears. Somehow, I knew exactly what he was trying to say. That he died on purpose, for a reason, and didn't regret it. I squeezed his hand. "Your life meant something," I said fiercely. "Know that your life meant something, Whit."

He was dead. I'll never know if he heard me or not.

Bucky knelt down behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. I burst into tears, still holding Whit's hand.

The Avengers went down into the Hydra base and I'm afraid I don't know most of what happened in there. I do know that they didn't take any prisoners. Then again, Hydra agents don't get taken. Not if they can help it.

That was pretty much the end of anything worth telling. The rest was cleanup and tears and probably a lot of paperwork.

Just for the record...

Janelle DeSilva had five grown children and thirteen grandchildren. All of them were devastated at her loss.

Dr. Carlos Javier had a wife and a six-year-old boy.

I found out the names of the guards and the nurses who were killed:

James Whitter  
Natalie Ursmann  
Reynold Jackson  
Ira Pough  
Linda Forener  
Mikael Justina

I couldn't go to all of their funerals, most of them were on the same day. But I can remember them. Remembering things is what I do.

Whit Riehle didn't have any family.

I did go to his funeral. He didn't have many friends either; most of the people there were people I knew. Yumiko and Samuel were there, and we exchanged awkward hugs. None of us are particularly sentimental people. I cried more than anybody. I realized that I probably liked Whit better than any other of the EIDs. I had respected him. Strange, quiet, courageous little man.

It was a shock to realize that he probably liked me back. You don't spend your life for someone you don't care about.

I think that's all I can write tonight.


	55. Chapter 55

Monday, June 9th, 2014

Finding the last base was a nasty blow to Hydra. Not only did we do away with a large number of their remaining soldiers and scientists, but we found another data cache. A big one. Most of it is still waiting to be analyzed and catalogued, but Fury has gone through enough of it to determine the biggest thing we needed to know: that there's not a whole lot of Hydra left.

This whole stunt was a Hail Mary pass. They won't have the steam to try anything else of this magnitude again, and there wasn't anymore super soldier serum so it's doubtful there are any more lurking super soldiers.

So we've all been allowed to go home. I know Fury well enough by this point to know that he's still got us under surveillance, but I can't really find it in myself to care. The habit of constant fear is hard to break. I still ache from the losses we suffered. And I don't know when I might end up in the hospital again; Joey will probably need more blood transfusions.

But in the meantime, Bucky and I get to sleep in a real bed again. With real privacy. Even more privacy than we anticipated at first, because something rather serious seemed to pass between Joe and Lawrence during the Hydra attack, and Joe is practically living over there now.

I felt numb for a few days after the funerals ended, and Bucky and I slept chastely together in each other's arms. That was enough for both of us, I think. Just being able to sleep wrapped in each other again.

Last night, though... after writing everything down and re-living it, in a way, I almost felt as though I had put it behind me, somewhat. Not entirely, but a little. Enough to feel again without that horrible weight on my heart that had been there for days.

I went to bed and Bucky took me in his arms, and I looked into his eyes. He looked worried. I realized he had been looking worried for days now.

I said, "Bucky, I want to make love."

"Are you sure?"

I leaned forward and pressed my face against his neck and inhaled his scent, deeply. "Yes."

It was slow and hesitant, almost as if we were relearning something that we had forgotten. And both of us wanted to be careful; the last time we'd given in to sexual abandon, Joey had gotten hurt. Knowing it wasn't our fault only helped so much.

But when he entered me it was so good that it was almost painful. He paused and shivered, and I knew he felt it, too. He whispered, "Do you remember how to dance?"

And, like a page turning in a book, I suddenly remembered our first time.

It was the most precious gift my mind had ever given me; the memory of that night, whole and perfect. I remembered how my body had opened itself completely to him, how his had opened itself to me, the way we had explored and redefined each other. I remembered how surprising and yet familiar every touch was. I remembered, and here we were now, still in love, still together somehow in spite of everything.

Tears began to stream out of my eyes, and he pushed himself back a little, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

I said, "I do remember, Bucky." I smiled at him. "I remember our first dance."

He smiled, that beautiful smile that changes his entire face, and he said, "Tell me."

I softly whispered to him all of the things I remembered about that night, and he moved in me and told me what it had been like for him, how he had been amazed at the way we fit to each other, how beautiful I was, the same way he had said those things to me once upon a time, high in the mountains, hidden away from the world.

For a moment, it was like I could feel everything in the world. Anxiety for Joey, deep cuts of sorrow for those who had died, amorphous fears for what might be coming next, love for everybody close to me, and that bright, fierce passionate love for Bucky that occasionally overwhelms me. And then the feelings began to drop out of sight, one by one, relaxing into an ocean of calm, and all that was left was my love for Bucky and his for me. His weight pressed me into the bed and his breath deepened and quickened, and I could feel how badly he had needed this.

We only made love once, too nervous to chance any more. But we slept through the night until this morning, and Joey is still quiet this evening.


	56. Chapter 56

Tuesday, June 10th, 2014

Bucky told me laughingly this morning that I've started snoring at night. I suppose the weight gain has something to do with it; I've gained about ten more pounds, and I'm showing enough that everybody around me is noticing.

My appetite is even larger than it has been since the beginning of this whole mess, and now that there's no morning sickness, I feel like a whale.

Bucky is loving every second of it. Now that he isn't worried about the baby and Hydra anymore, he smiles at me all the time and wants to touch my tummy frequently, and I could honestly swear that fucker is walking with a saunter as though feeling the benefits of his own virility. As for me, my back is starting to hurt, and my ankles are swollen, and my balance is off. I'm not feeling terribly attractive right now, but Bucky spent several hours last night convincing me that nothing has changed between us. And every time I look at the ring on my finger, I have to smile.

I have asked Fury whether I can keep working on the Hydra and SHIELD data analysis that we were doing under DeSilva. He said that Yumiko and Samuel have been asking the same thing, so apparently we're all bored stiff. I checked with Bucky, and he's fine with me working as long as he can be with me.

I still marvel at the fact that I, the former lone wolf, am able to tolerate this level of closeness with somebody. I keep waiting for us to start getting on each other's nerves.

Joe has gone back to work as well. He came home today with his laptop and a list of website links that were equivalent to a stack of baby catalogs, and we all three looked at furniture together. It wasn't quite as scary as it used to be, but then, my basis for what counts as "scary" has been shifted since May.

The southern heat and humidity are just starting to grow oppressive outside, and I'm not looking forward to lugging around thirty or forty extra pounds in the sweltering August weather. Hopefully it will only be that much.

She's due in late November... a holiday baby.


	57. Chapter 57

Wednesday, June 11th, 2014

I haven't been to group therapy in weeks, but something told me that today I should go at least one last time.

They were all there... Maia and Bertrand and Jerry and Warren, and Mike and Yulija and all the rest of them, and I was actually really glad to see them. They were glad to see me, too. All of them except Bertrand remembered me, but I know that he has trouble forming new memories.

When sharing time came, I quietly explained to everybody that I was leaving group because my memory was returning, and I thanked them all for helping me. "I don't hate myself anymore, like I did before. You taught me that my life wasn't over after all."

I was crying by the time I was finished, and so were a few others. They all wanted to hug me before I left. A few months ago I would have found that extremely weird.

I _don't_ hate myself anymore. And I feel like I know who I am again. The two halves of myself have joined into a single whole, riddled with complexity and paradoxes but still all me.

Dr. GM came over today to give Bucky and I (and Steve, who happened to be visiting) an update on Nimrod. I expected Bucky to blow up again, but he seemed willing to hear what she had to say. Something about Dr. GM defuses Bucky. I think it's the shared experience of being captives to Hydra.

Also there was her gentle criticism of her father. "I'm not surprised that you were reluctant to let him run procedures on you. The machine was in a primitive state when I started working on it a few weeks ago. I love my Dad, but he's not and has never been a memory specialist," Dr. GM said ruefully.

"So you're saying it was dangerous after all?" asked Steve.

"Not really... more like, I'm surprised that he managed to access your memory at all. I think there was a combination of factors in his success. Bucky, your memories were on their way to returning after all, so all they needed was a nudge. How have you been tolerating that lately, by the way?"

Bucky shrugged. "It's been easier. They aren't coming so fast. But I think there aren't as many left."

"Probably right. Then there was Whit Riehle. He had something that he wanted us to know so desperately that I think he practically led the machine to it, subconsciously. And then there was Train, who may not have been affected at all. To him, the machine was simply a tool to make us believe that he could give us Hydra data without harming himself."

"So what about now? What have you done to the machine since those tests?" I asked.

"I've been doing a lot of redesign. My time with Hydra was... difficult, but it was also productive. I learned a lot about memory manipulation and implantation. Memory restoration is not really very different from implantation and vice versa; when you implant a memory, you actually use materials that are already there inside the mind to form new memories. It's easy enough to remove the manipulative elements and to simply restore broken memories to their original form. Which is why I wanted to speak with you, Jessie."

I nodded. "I was anticipating you might visit us."

"Then you won't be surprised when I say that there's a real possibility we could restore the memories you're still missing."

"No," I said.

She looked surprised. "Dad was convinced that you would be willing to try again."

I smiled, and then looked at Bucky, who was staring at me in amazement. "I've had a few things happen to change my outlook on things. First of all, my memories _are_ returning, even if slowly. I think I'm going to get that year of my life back eventually. And if not... well, I can live without it. I don't want to risk endangering myself for memories that I have written down in detail anyway. What would be the point?"

Dr. GM nodded thoughtfully. "But there's another problem."

"Yes, and I know what you're going to say... and I agree. What I need to do is not restore my memory. That's happening anyway. What's needed is to destroy a memory so that it can't be retrieved, even by your own technology. Can you do that?"

Dr. GM said, "That's the problem. I'm not sure. I would have to study your mind in some depth to determine whether I can destroy something irrecoverably."

Bucky said, "Destroy what?"

I turned to him. "We're going to root out more and more of Hydra, until there's nothing left of it. I'm confident of that. But as long as I hold the key to what's left of the super soldier formula, nobody in this world is completely safe. I don't care whether SHIELD gets hold of it, or Hydra, or Stark, or anybody else. The world is safest not knowing how to create more of you. We have to destroy that key. Yumiko and Samuel may submit to having their memories altered as well, but if I do it, they won't have to."

Bucky and I held each other's eyes for about half a minute, and I silently begged him for once not to fight me.

Steve said quietly, "She's right, Buck. The world is better off not knowing."

Bucky turned to Steve and back to me. He finally said, wearily, "Tell me the risks."

Dr. GM said, "Of destroying a memory? Assuming I can do it? The risks are obvious; that we'll destroy the wrong one. But fortunately this is where Hydra's data helps us a great deal. Identifying specific memories for alteration and destruction was their obsession."

"And there would be no danger to my body, or to the baby?" I asked.

"I'm confident that we can do it with no physical trauma whatsoever."

"How confident?" Bucky asked.

"98%," she said, without flinching. "But don't take my word for it. I'm submitting myself for a similar procedure." We all must have looked surprised. She smiled, a small, grim smile. "There are aspects of the past few years that I would prefer were taken from my memory. Things that, if left there, will actively impair my ability to function for the rest of my life. I want them gone."

Bucky said, "But that's..." he didn't finish.

Dr. GM turned to him and said coolly, "And if I were you, Bucky, I would submit myself for the same, once you're satisfied that you've given SHIELD enough information on your history of Hydra service. Did it not occur to you that you might actually get rid of it?"

Bucky looked utterly confused for a moment. "It's... part of who I am, now."

"Think about that carefully. Is it a healed wound, or gangrene that should be removed before it infects everything it touches?" Her eyes were hard. "Are you really that person?"

Bucky shook his head uncertainly.

"In any case, you can pick and choose whatever you want to forget. You don't have to lose all of it. And the procedure will be perfectly safe, but don't take my word for it. Come to the hospital tomorrow and visit Bren Greggory and George Steisz."

I leaned forward. "You've been working on them?"

"We have, with surprisingly positive results."

She refused to give us any more details than that. After she left, I turned to Bucky with a wince and said, "Is this the part where we have a huge fight again?"

Bucky gave me a helpless look. "What if I said that your mind was the thing I loved the most about you?"

I was surprised into a laugh. "I would say you're a man of peculiar tastes."

Bucky said, "Do you both trust that woman?"

Steve smiled. "The question is, do you?"

Bucky frowned. "I trust her more than I trust her father."

"I say let's reserve decisions until we meet Greggory and Steisz tomorrow," I said.

"That sounds sensible enough," said Steve.

He hugged us both before he left, something about it made me feel lonely for him. He and Bucky don't really live together anymore.

I looked at Bucky and said, "Is Steve going to end up alone forever?"

Bucky looked speculative for a moment. "Maybe. I don't know. Something tells me that now that I'm gone, he might finally get up the guts to ask the girl who lives across the hall out for coffee."

I gasped. "There's a girl?"

"A really pretty one, who likes him. But I think ever since I moved in that she thinks he's... well. Gay." Bucky shrugged.

I grabbed Bucky's hands. "Oh my god. How can we make this happen as soon as possible?"

He looked at me incredulously. "What do you mean, make it happen? It's not up to us."

"What, you mean leave it up to _him_? He'll die a virgin! Nope. It's up to us."

"Something tells me you're going to make a disaster out of this."

"You're right," I said. "I shouldn't be in charge of this. We need to get Joe involved."

Bucky groaned.


	58. Chapter 58

Thursday, June 12th, 2014

We met and spoke to Greggory and Steisz today, and it was more than a shock. They weren't just improved; they were completely different people. Slightly stiff and quiet people--they're still EIDs after all, and we are not a sociable breed--but people, with full personalities and the ability to express themselves and show emotion. Bren Greggory was a tall, graceful woman with freckles, and George Steisz was a large, square man with close-cropped graying hair and pale gray eyes. He had a quiet way of talking that reminded me a little of Whit.

I hesitantly asked, not knowing whether it was taboo or not, what their experiences were like with Hydra.

Bren Greggory said, "I honestly can't tell you that much. Once all of it was restored, I picked out a lot of it to be erased."

I blinked. "Really?"

"George and I both went through extensive debriefing after the memory restoration, and our experiences have been heavily documented. If I ever want to know about what I went through while imprisoned by Hydra, all I have to do is check out the documents and read them. But I don't want those memories back. I couldn't sleep, while I had them. I was sick that whole time." She shook her head. "There are just some things you don't want in your head."

George had chosen a fair amount of his own memory to be erased as well. I wasn't sure what to expect given that, but the longer we talked, the more they both seemed happy and healthy.

I asked them if they wanted to be involved in the data analysis, and they both jumped at the idea, Bren in particular. "Work? _Real_ work? Count me in."

But there was something slightly off... they kept looking at each other before responding to questions. I glanced at Bucky to see if he had noticed the same thing, and that's when it hit me.

I said, "You two are together, aren't you?"

Bren smiled shyly. "We became close while we were in captivity. Those memories, I kept."

"Me too," said George. "Turns out Hydra can't completely destroy people, no matter how hard they try. They tried to destroy us, but when Dr. Manscolm brought us back, the first thing we remembered was each other." He took Bren's hand.

"We owe her everything," said Bren.

I blinked, realizing they were talking about Gillian... I'm so accustomed to thinking about her father whenever I hear "Dr. Manscolm". But of course it would have been her.

Walking back home, Bucky kept lagging behind. I looked at him and realized that he was thinking so hard that he was walking incredibly slowly. I took his hand and squeezed it. "Talk to me."

"I'm just thinking."

"I can tell. You're practically smoking from the ears."

He smirked at me. "I've been known to think from time to time."

"Sorry, bad joke. What are you thinking about? Memory erasure?"

"What else?" He stopped walking and looked around at the trees. "I think to myself that I could look at the trees and not automatically think about whether they would provide good cover if someone started shooting at us. But that came from World War II, as well. It's so hard to tell the difference between what things came from going through the war, and what things came from being the Winter Soldier."

I said, "I'm sure Dr. Manscolm has some way of distinguishing them."

"Maybe, but... I dunno. What if Hydra comes back? What if I need the skills I learned from them? They tortured me, but they also made me a better soldier."

"A better killer, you mean."

He laughed humorlessly. "Don't ever kid yourself about what a soldier is, Jess."

I winced. "I guess I never thought about it that way."

"I was a killer long before Hydra got me. They just made me better at it."

"You killed during a war, Bucky. There's a difference between that and committing assassinations during peacetime."

He looked bewildered for a moment. "Peacetime. What is that, really? When does that ever happen? There's always a war somewhere."

I frowned. "That kind of thinking may be what you want to get rid of."

"Maybe." He sighed. "You're probably right. But... I'm just not sure I should get rid of it by erasing it. These things are a part of who I am."

"They are," I agreed. "But they're also just a _part_ of who you are. There's so much more to you than just the soldier."

He nodded, looking unsure.

"Bucky, do you still wake up in the night?"

"Yes, but not as much as last year." He paused. "I sleep better when you're in bed with me."

"Likewise," I said. I hugged him. "I think I do everything better when you're with me." I grinned.

He chuckled. "There's my girl again, turning everything to sex."

"It's what I do best."

"Not even close." He kissed me. "When will you have it done?"

"What?"

"Deleting the key inside your mind. I know you'll want to do it as soon as possible."

I nodded. "I'm going to call Dr. Gillian tonight and make an appointment. Will you come with me?"

"Just try to keep me away," he said grimly.

We finished the walk home and I called Dr. GM. She said I could come in tomorrow morning. We let Steve know, in case he wanted to be there, but there's a raid on a small outlying Hydra base tomorrow and he can't be. Joe will be with us, though.

I'm trying not to be afraid.


	59. Chapter 59

Friday, June 13th, 2014

Of _course_ Bucky would be superstitious about Friday the 13ths. Because there had to be something to make this day even more difficult than it was already going to be. The moment he looked at the date on my phone this morning he turned pale and started trying to convince me to postpone it.

I said, "Bucky, let me ask you something. How long do you think this technology is going to remain under the control of Dr. Gillian Manscolm? How long will it be before Fury or the government take it over? And how long after that will it take them to compel me to reveal the key?"

He grimaced. "I take your point. We're running out of time."

"You're damn right we are. Even a part of the super soldier formula is better than nothing, and might allow them to pick up where Howard Stark left off. And I'm not going to let our little girl grow up in a world where super soldiers with violent mood swings are being created by the thousands."

"And what if Manscolm can't destroy it completely?"

I hesitated. "Let's hope that she can. If she can't... I may have to hide for the rest of my life, from our own government."

"And every other government," said Joe. "Let's go."

The lab was as I remembered it, all shining and white and silver and sterile. Joe stared around the room as we went in, obviously trying to make some sense of what he was seeing. I caught his eye and he shrugged, baffled. I couldn't help but smile.

Nimrod had undergone some changes. Instead of a lattice-work of wires and contact points, there were only four graceful curves indicating where the framework would sit upon the skull. But the bundle of wires attached to the top of the headpiece was thicker, and it wasn't hooked up to a small computer anymore, but to a massive shining box with faint blue lights flickering inside. There were ten other similar boxes behind it, hooked up in series, and there was a small laptop attached to the front.

I gaped at it. "You set up a supercomputer in here?"

Dr. GM said, "It would take about fifteen of these arrays to truly map a human brain. Fortunately our focus is just memory, so we can cheat a little."

The white chair was now more of a lounge chair, with cushioned arms. I stood in front of it nervously.

"Have a seat," said the doctor. "I promise it doesn't bite."

I gingerly sat down.

Bucky pulled a lab chair from a nearby desk over to me and sat down and took my hand. He glanced at Dr. GM as though daring her to tell him to keep away, but she didn't say a word. Joe stood quietly by my feet and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked tough, which meant he was worried.

I lifted an eyebrow at Bucky. "If I thrash, I could throw you across the room."

He frowned. "Not funny."

Joe said, "If she shows signs of distress, I want the whole thing stopped."

Dr. GM nodded. "Jessie shouldn't experience more than a mild discomfort. But I want to prepare you that it's going to take some time to analyze her brain enough to root out and destroy a memory completely rather than just dissolve the pathway to it. This could last for hours."

Bucky swallowed hard.

I squeezed his hand. "All I ask is that you let me try."

He kissed my forehead. "One try. That's all."

Dr. GM placed the headpiece on my head, and said, "Close your eyes and try to relax." She went to the computer. I closed my eyes. I focused on my hand in Bucky's. I tried to relax.

At first, the best way I can describe it is that it felt like someone was gently but persistently tugging at me, trying to get my attention.

Then, suddenly I was nowhere.

It was a bit of a shock, and Bucky told me later that I gasped when it happened. It was a little like free-fall at first, and then I gradually began to get used to not having a body and not being anywhere. There was still some kind of an entity called Me, but it wasn't attached to anything, and it wasn't any particular size. I can't really describe it. It wasn't unpleasant once I got used to it, but it was totally alien to anything else I had ever experienced in my life.

Then I realized I was being studied. Not just looked at but _examined_ , closely. So closely that I felt completely naked.

I wanted to cover myself up, but there was nothing to cover with, and nowhere to go. Relentlessly I was analyzed and everything about me was held up to the light and pored over like a detailed book. If I'd been physically present, I would have shuddered. Bucky told me later that I was perfectly still for the entire procedure after the first gasp, so that shudder must have been inside my mind.

It seemed to last forever, that examination. It seemed to last for days. I couldn't imagine that there could possibly be that much of me to study, but apparently there was, or else Dr. GM was just being extra careful.

Then the probing began.

In that moment, I understood Bucky more intimately than I ever had before.

I tried to keep myself calm and open myself up to it, but I couldn't escape the fundamental feeling of Unwelcome. Whatever it was that was seeking and projecting itself into my mind was not a part of me, it was some other thing, and there was an intrinsic wrongness that blared all around me like alarm bells.

The human body under certain circumstances can be penetrated in vulnerable places and find it a positive experience, but the human mind isn't built to accept penetration at all. This was a violation on the deepest level of my being, and the only thing that was keeping me from fighting against it like bloody hell was the fact that I knew I had consented to it, I knew that it had to be done. There was no choice. So I had to submit to let it happen as quickly as possible.

But it was like being slowly, searchingly stabbed through the gut.

This was insane. This was _not supposed to be happening to me_.

I tried to think about Joey, about protecting her. _I would do anything to protect my baby. I can endure this._ That helped, marginally.

I thought about her as a baby, laughing, crying, learning to crawl. I thought about her learning to walk and burbling her first words. I thought about giving her a bath, about making her laugh with silly faces and voices and songs, I thought about holding her as she went to sleep. I thought about her growing up and learning about letters and numbers. She will be smart. Both of her parents are smart. And she'll be strong-willed, so I'll have to be ready for that. I thought about watching Bucky hold her and play with her and protect her, the way he has always tried to protect me. I thought about a tiny baby hand gripping my finger.

I thought and thought and thought, while the horrible violating twisting feeling was happening all around me and inside me, and it kept me sane and calm.

Then suddenly, there was a bright, sharp agony, that disappeared in an instant.

And then it stopped, and I was plunged back into my body like riding a water slide into a pool. I opened my eyes and felt myself start to shake. Someone was holding my hand. I yanked my hand free and I reached for the headpiece instinctively, trying to get it off.

"Whoa there," a calm female voice said, and my hands were gently pushed away and the headpiece was lifted off me.

I took a deep breath, holding my head in my hands. But the awful probing was completely gone. Now I could shudder and react, and I did... I started to cry.

I heard an angry male voice say, "Very mild discomfort my ass. Look at her! What did you do?"

"Please don't yell," I whispered. I felt like I couldn't handle the least bit of tension in the room.

Bucky touched my face. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly, but his voice was tight with anger.

I looked at him, and didn't recognize him for a moment, and in that moment I was afraid that Dr. GM had taken my memory of him away. But suddenly it clicked who he was, and I reached for him. He pulled me close, gently, and I clung to him and whispered his name over and over and over again.

"Hush, I'm here, I'm here."

It took a few minutes for me to calm down, and I realized that Joe and Dr. GM were conferring in curt whispers. It looked like an argument. I said, "Doctor?"

Dr. GM turned to me. "Jessie. How do you feel?"

I said, "That was... I don't ever want to do that again."

She nodded. "I'm afraid I had to dig pretty deep to get to the key. It was almost as if someone had put up walls around it, your mind was fighting me. The good news is, we got it."

"Is there bad news?" Joe asked.

"Well, possibly. The bad news is that I may have destroyed her vault for good. Jessie, whatever you've kept secret over the years, you may start to remember again. That may actually be a good thing. SHIELD has kept too many secrets as it is."

I thought about that for a moment. "I think it may be a good thing."

"I think that you don't know what the hell you're doing at the best of times," Bucky said to Dr. GM, angrily. "Are you aware that your father and I made an agreement?"

Dr. GM nodded. "That once we got what we wanted from the machine, we would let you destroy it. I would caution against that, Bucky. This machine could help a lot of people recover lost memories, and a lot of others could recover from traumatic ones."

I thought about the people in my support group, and wondered whether it would help any of them. "Bucky, she has a point." Then I thought about the awful feelings of nakedness and vulnerability and violation, and I shuddered, feeling relieved that I was actually able to do so with my body. "Then again..."

"I consider that agreement binding," Bucky said, his eyes cold.

Dr. GM frowned. "Despite the good it could do?"

"The good hardly outweighs the bad, and the bad has already been done," Joe pointed out.

"Do you know how much good doctors would be able to do with my enhanced healing and other abilities?" Bucky retorted. "So much good could have been done with that research, so much good could have been done with the research done on Steve over the years, and do you know how much good was actually done? None. They used the science to create weapons. This machine and all the research that went into it are going to be erased from the face of the earth. Are we clear on that?"

Dr. GM held his eyes for a few moments, and finally nodded. "I don't like it, but the agreement is binding."

Bucky held out his left hand, and after some hesitation, Dr. GM put the headpiece into it. Bucky clenched his fist, crushing it easily, the slender wires and contacts grinding together and letting off tiny sparks as they were twisted into uselessness. Bucky opened his hand and let the ruined headpiece fall to the floor. He said, "Now can I trust you to permanently delete your files, or do I need to find all of your computers and burn them?"

Dr. GM grimaced. "I'll delete them."

"And if I should find out that you've created a new one of these, I'll know you lied to me. And I will find you," Bucky said with utter calm.

"Fine."

We left soon after, and I'm pretty sure she was glad to see us go.

I don't know what's going to happen to my mind now that the walls have all been broken down. Maybe nothing. It's a frightening feeling, but it's not too high a price to pay to have the key gone. And now, with no more Nimrod, there can't possibly be any way to retrieve it. I'm positive that the world is a safer place because of that.

Bucky and Joe and I went home and they were both fussy and worried about me for hours until I finally grew snarly and irritated enough to convince them that I was fine again.

Steve called in the afternoon and we reassured him that I was okay, but he still insisted on coming by in the evening. When he came, he actually burst through the door, still sweaty and wearing combat gear as though he hadn't cleaned up from his mission yet. I went to him and threw my arms around him, and he hugged me very carefully. "You're alright? The baby is alright?"

"Everybody is perfectly fine," I said. "How did your mission go?"

"We found yet another Hydra memory device." He looked at Bucky. "I personally blew it up."

Bucky smiled at him. "Fantastic."

Joe said, "As long as you've tracked mud all over my clean floor, you might as well stay for dinner. Sit down before you fall down."

Steve looked down at his soot-covered boots with chagrin, and I laughed.


	60. Chapter 60

Tuesday, June 17th, 2014

It's been a few days since I've written in this journal. I guess I just haven't felt a need to.

I've started working with the other four EIDs on more data analysis. A man named Jack Olphant has taken over DeSilva's position. He seems to be a decent enough guy. I thought that Yumiko and Samuel would want to talk about Train and Whit, but neither of them seem to want to. And of course Bren and George never met them. Bucky kept whittling away at his memoirs in the corner of the room while we made data connections and organized files. Nothing exciting happened.

I'm writing today because something _did_ happen today, after work.

We came home and Steve and Tony Stark were in the living room.

I stepped in front of Bucky reflexively and Stark snorted. He looked at Steve and said, "You would think I had a reputation for violence or something."

Steve said, "I have no idea where someone might get that idea."

I blushed. "Sorry."

Bucky gently pushed me to the side and slowly went to sit down beside Steve. I sat as well. Bucky said to Stark, "Can I help you with something?" His voice was surprisingly soft and calm. He genuinely sounded as though he wanted to help somehow.

Stark looked at Bucky and I saw a flash of that deep pain again in his eyes. He blinked it away. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about what to do about you. And my thoughts have distilled down to one conclusion: I don't trust that you're completely reformed."

Bucky nodded. "So what do you intend to do about that?"

"You've done a lot of damage over the decades, Barnes. Hurt a lot of people. Good people. You've ruined countless lives. And you had help doing that. Hydra enhanced you, made you into a weapon." Stark paused. "I want your arm."

Steve blinked and said, "You want what?" at the same exact time that I said, "Excuse me?"

Bucky took a deep breath and said, "Very well."

"Wait just a damn minute," I said. "His _arm_?"

"His enhanced arm," Stark said calmly. "I want to remove it."

"But that's ridiculous!" I said.

"Tony," Steve began, but Bucky cut him off.

"Steve, Jess, hush," Bucky said. "He could have asked for my life."

"I could have," Stark said, standing up. "It would be a more fair price. But all I'm asking for is your arm. Meet me at the hospital tomorrow, this time and room." He handed Bucky a small white card. "I'll remove it surgically." Stark paused. "If at some time in the future I'm convinced that you pose no more threat to society, I'll design you a new one. If you don't show up tomorrow, I'll come find you, and I'll take more than your arm." He glanced at Steve and then me, and then walked out.

Steve and I sat stunned for a moment. Bucky turned the card over in his hand, his face thoughtful.

Steve said, "I didn't know he was going to say that, Buck."

I said, "You can't agree to it."

Bucky didn't look up. "Jess, you can make this harder for me, or easier."

"Why would I make it easier for you to allow him to mutilate you?"

Bucky sighed. "Mutilated. Has it occurred to you that Hydra already mutilated me when they put the arm on in the first place?"

"It's your arm, Bucky," said Steve. "Not Hydra's."

"Are you certain of that?" Bucky held out his left hand and flexed his fingers. "I've never felt that way. There have been plenty of times when I've wanted it gone."

We all considered that for a moment. Steve and I exchanged a helpless look.

Bucky said, "I need to go for a walk. I'll be back."

We watched him walk out the door, and I went and sat beside Steve and took his hand and looked into his eyes. "How can we let him do this?"

"We don't have to," said Steve, his voice hard. "We can fight."

"Fight Tony Stark?" I suddenly pictured Steve and Bucky attempted to go to war against Stark, together with his hundreds of metal minions and all of his weapons, and I knew exactly how it would end. "You'll die. You'll both die."

"Maybe not," Steve said, but he sounded doubtful.

"No, you will die, and I'll be raising this child without a father," I said. I squeezed Steve's hand.

We sat in silence for a while, and Steve put his arm around me and pulled me close.

I didn't cry. I felt numb.

I tried to think, and no matter what I thought about, I couldn't escape the single inexorable fact that this was Bucky's decision to make, not ours. And I knew what Bucky's decision would be.

It was horrible, but it was going to happen, and the only thing Steve and I could do was figure out some way to find peace with it. I could feel him struggling beside me, that mighty, indomitable will faced with a completely impossible problem.

I said, "Steve, Bucky hates that arm."

I didn't even realize that I knew that until I said it, but it's true. Bucky hates his left arm. He has grown accustomed to it, and it's been incredibly useful to him, and it's kept him alive many times, and he's even developed a sort of sick fetishized fascination with using it during sex with me, but at the end of the day, he still hates the damn thing, and this is his chance to be rid of it.

Perhaps he'll be happier without it.

Steve shook his head, his eyes tightly closed. "I just can't let him do this."

I said, "Yes you can. You and I are strong enough to let him make this decision."

"We worked so hard to save him, dammit!"

"He'll still be the same person without his arm."

Steve looked at me. "It's not right."

"I know," I said helplessly.

In that moment, wounded and broken and angry and fearful, I could have kissed him. I'm not sure how my brain made that leap, but I could have. Maybe it was the fact that we were so completely of one mind in that moment, feeling exactly the same things. Maybe I just wanted to comfort him, or break the moment somehow. Maybe this moment made him seem imperfect enough to be touchable. I could have kissed him.

And for a brief instant, I saw the same thought in his eyes.

We didn't, though.

And the thought that came to me just after that was something along the lines of, _Man, it really, really sucks ass to have to be an adult._

I took his hand and pressed it against my cheek for a moment, and then I got up and went to the kitchen to make us some drinks. Just ice water. By the time I brought it back, he had calmed himself down and all that was left of that high-fevered emotion in his eyes was a sick misery. I felt the same thing.

We sat quietly until Bucky came home.

Bucky walked through the door, and I could see in his face the decision that he had made, because his expression was one of relief. Steve and I both stood, and Bucky went to Steve and hugged him tightly, and I could tell that Bucky was thinking, _While I still have two good arms._ That was when I started to cry.


	61. Chapter 61

Wednesday, June 18th, 2014

Last night, I said goodbye to Bucky's arm in my own way. I kissed it all over and guided his metal hand over my body until he finally begged me to stop, tears in his eyes. We stayed awake almost all night, having every kind of sex it was possible to have before we would have to adjust to doing it entirely differently.

In the morning, I kissed the palm of his metal hand one more time, and hugged him, and let him go to the hospital.

Steve came over to wait with me.

I called Joe, who said, "Bucky did _WHAT_?!" and immediately came over. I had to stop him from going to the hospital himself; Joe, who wouldn't have hesitated for a moment to tell Tony Stark to his face that he was psychotic. I was almost tempted to let him go, but I stopped him.

We all sat with pale faces and tense expressions until 2pm when Bucky finally got home.

Bucky walked through the door, looking exhausted but calm.

Steve and I stood up and went to him and paused. I gently touched the bandage over the stump where Bucky's arm had been. He winced. I said, "I'm sorry."

"That's okay, it's just tender. I'm sure it will be that way for a while."

Steve looked at Bucky speechlessly for a few moments.

Bucky said, "It's still me, pal. Still the same me."

Steve nodded, his eyes bright. "Yeah."

We all sat down and Joe said, "I have become honestly convinced that all of you are completely out of your respective gourds. How the _fuck_ did this happen?"

Bucky said, "Joe, I love you man, but shut up."

The "shut up" wouldn't have shut Joe up for the world, but the "I love you" shut him up tight.

"Is there anything I can get you?" I asked Bucky softly.

He looked up at me. "It doesn't hurt anymore." There was something different about his face; his eyebrows were less furrowed than they almost always were, his eyes were less clouded. I couldn't tell why he was different.

"What doesn't hurt?" asked Steve.

"My arm. It always used to hurt. Always."

I stared. "Why... but you... you never said..."

He gave me the saddest smile I've ever seen. "That's because I didn't realize it hurt until it was taken away."

That constant brow furrow he'd always had, that only disappeared during the rare moments when he smiled broadly... the way his eyes were constantly a tiny bit narrowed... 

He had been in pain for the entire time I had known him, and I didn't know it. Steve didn't know it. Joe didn't know it. Nobody knew.

Maybe Stark had guessed.

Not maybe. Probably. Who knows more about biotechnology than Tony Stark? He was the only one who knew that he was actually doing Bucky a favor.

That's just speculation, but every time I think about it, I become more convinced that it's right.

Stark, you sneaky, underhanded, soft-hearted, sadistic motherfucker.

I think that's about all I can write now. It's been an exhausting day.


	62. Chapter 62

Friday, December 26th, 2014

Yesterday was Christmas, and early in the morning when I was digging out Bucky's gift from the back shelf of the closet, this journal fell down into my hands, and I remembered it. I thought I'd write a little in it today, since it's an auspicious day.

Joey is one month old today.

Bucky is completely, utterly smitten with her, and has forgotten that he ever wanted a boy. That's not to say that I'm not just as bad. I think she's the world's most perfect baby. I could watch her sleep for hours. Every moment with her is like a miracle. But somehow it's different for Bucky; she has changed his world into something else completely, and he'll never be the same man he was before. The two of them have their own little world already, and I sense that she'll be a Daddy's girl through and through.

I can hardly blame her, with such a special Daddy.

We live with Steve now. Or I should say, Steve lives with us. He moved in after Joe moved out to go live with Lawrence, which was a good thing, because we really couldn't afford this apartment on my salary alone and we still haven't figured out what, if anything, Bucky can do for a living.

But now he's a Daddy, and that seems to suit him fine. He performs the functions of Daddyhood with one arm with surprising ease, too. We've tacitly agreed that I'll be the one who goes back to work when the time comes. It breaks my heart in a way, but when I see how happy Bucky is, I feel good about it.

Steve is constantly buying Joey little presents, and between the three of us we're probably going to spoil her completely rotten.

Bucky and I were married in July. He wears his ring on his right hand.

We had to give Joey two more blood transfusions before she was born, and there's a possibility that she may have to have them her entire life. I try not to worry about it too much. Steve has enough blood banked and frozen to transfuse practically the entire East coast for the next ten years, so if something should happen to him, she'll be fine for decades. Bucky and I won't be fine at all, but she'll be okay.

Joe and Lawrence visit frequently and help with evening baby duties, so the kid practically has five parents at the moment. That won't be true for long, though, because J and L are considering adopting one of their own. I hope like hell that it works out. They would be wonderful fathers.

Lawrence and Bucky have become close friends, which I like, because Bucky needed more friends in my humble opinion.

Steve occasionally disappears in the evening and comes home with a furtive expression on his face. Bucky and I suspect that he may be dating, but we don't want to confront him on it, because he might freak out and stop. We don't know if it's the pretty girl he used to live across from or not. Bucky has considered using some of his old spy skills to follow Steve and find out, but I ixnayed the idea. Steve deserves his privacy (and a tiny bit of distance from Bucky).

My memory of the lost year has returned almost completely. There are good and bad things about that; for one thing, I remember what happened when Hydra captured me, and that's caused me some sleepless nights... but I wouldn't trade my memories for anything. I remember falling in love with Bucky twice in a row now, and that's amazingly precious to me.

Dr. GM was right, too... my vault was completely broken the day that she destroyed the serum key in my mind. I've been slowly cataloguing all of the data that I've been storing for years from SHIELD and Hydra both, hoping that the Avengers find it useful. It's nice to feel useful again. But I don't think I'll ever glorify it the way I used to. These days I'm more of a human being than a human doing.

When I hold my daughter in my arms and think about how many things about myself had to change before I could be a mother to her, I'm impossibly grateful for everything that happened to me, even the worst of it.

And now I'm going to wrap this up, because I'm dying to go hold her again and look into her blue eyes and tell her that I love her more than anything in the world.

I'm going to put this journal into the same box where I keep the old notebook that I wrote. Someday, I may show them to Joey, when she's old enough to understand (considering how much sex is in them, I'm guessing she'll be about thirty before I'm ready for that).

And so, goodbye for now, old journal, old friend.

It's not quite the same thing as saying, "Dear Diary", but as we have established already, I am not twelve.

 

 

 

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus ends the Fic Of DOOOOOOOM. Thank you so much for sticking with it!


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